


Walking on Eggshells

by a_story_to_share



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aunt Peggy Carter, F/M, Peggy Carter Lives, Peggy Carter has powers, Peggy Carter swears, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve Rogers can't handle being alone, Steve is a mess when he is drunk, Steve struggling to cope with modern day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-23 03:37:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17072774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_story_to_share/pseuds/a_story_to_share
Summary: Months have passed since the formation of the Avengers and still Steve does not feel comfortable with his team. He struggles to cope with the new world he has found himself in, desperately wishing he could be reunited with the friends he lost.Called to an impromptu meeting with Nick Fury, that could be more possible than he thinks.-Peggy hears that Captain America has returned when she comes home after a long mission abroad. But Steve is dead. How dare they use his image, his name, his legacy like this! She has lived a life honouring him and the sacrifice he made. Now finding that legacy tarnished in her absence, those responsible will have hell to pay.The first name on her list is Nick Fury.





	1. "You died."/"Aunt Peggy!"

**Author's Note:**

> An AU where Peggy hasn't aged and didn't know that Steve had been recovered from the Valkyrie until after the Battle of New York and the formation of the Avengers. 
> 
> Dialogue that is supposed to be in Russian is in italics, since I don't know Russian.

Steve stood looking out the common room window of the newly constructed Avengers tower. Tony had insisted on the name, saying it would be a base and home for them all, not just him, and how he liked the name more than Stark Tower, which had been the name of all buildings on that site since the 40s.

 

_Avengers Tower_

 

At first Steve had thought he was joking until Tony dragged him and anyone who would come to watch the big letters being placed on the outside. Clint squinted up at it.

 

“Well shit, I guess the name has stuck,” he muttered and took a big sip of his… ‘coffee’.

 

He smirked into his own cup as he remembered it. Of all things to change in seventy years, he hadn’t expected coffee to. But it had. Everything had.

 

It had been hard. He hadn’t realised how much he had shut himself off from the outside world, but seeing his new teammates interacting with it all, he had to wake up to the fact that he had been in the 21st century for months and still didn’t have friends. He would have argued that he did indeed have hobbies, but Nat had insisted that breaking that many punching bags wasn’t a hobby, it was a cry for help. And she had taken it upon herself, they all had in fact, to drag him into the present, Steve kicking and screaming and fighting every step of the way. Thor came along as well, much more at ease learning about the life of Midgardians.

 

At least _he_ had agreed that breaking punching bags could be a hobby.

 

Steve let out a sigh. He had reached the end of his cup. Now he had to make a decision, to pour another and stare out the window some more, or start his day. Weary footsteps stumbled into the lounge room, flopping onto the sofa.

 

“Oh, it’s morning already?” Tony sighed.

 

“Coffee’s made if you want any,” Steve informed him. He didn’t want Tony’s company just yet, so starting the day seemed the only other option. He walked past him to the kitchen, rinsing his cup and putting it in the dishwasher. That was one thing he liked about the future. Dishwashers were very useful. He liked dishwashers.

 

“Nah, if I pass out now I might sleep through the meetings scheduled for today,” Tony yawned. Steve shrugged. He knew Pepper would reschedule those she could for other days and force Tony to attend the ones she couldn’t. She was one of the few people who knew how to make him do anything.

 

So Steve set about his day. First, change into exercise clothing. Then he went down to the gym to try breaking some of the workout gear Tony had made especially for him and Thor. He had dubbed it “unbreakable”. Banner, Clint and Nat as well as half the New York SHIELD office placed bets on whether Steve or Thor would be the first to break it. An hour into his workout, Nat came down, watching him. She didn’t talk. He had never told her but she just seemed to know, he didn’t like talking while he was venting his anger and hurt and grief with his fists. She seemed to know that was what he was doing as well. She would wait until he finished and switch on the radio for him to listen to the news and weather and traffic report and music as he hit the showers.

 

He turned it off before the first song finished and headed up to get ready for meetings and paperwork and whatever other pointless useless empty tasks filled the day. Pepper sent him his itinerary. Since Tony was sleeping off who knew what, she asked him to accompany her to some meetings with various people, all of whom wanted to shake his hand and say how great it was to meet the one and only Captain America, none of whom were actually interested in talking to him about anything of significance. He stayed by Pepper’s side as she did all the talking. He was just there to… be there.

 

He joined Clint in the afternoon for a run, stopping off at a shop to get some donuts and coffees on the way back. Nat swiped some donuts and Steve’s coffee. He didn’t mind, he didn’t like the coffee anyway. Then he would shower again, sit in his room and stare at the sunset, before going out to the common room to see who would be there for dinner and what dinner would be. After dinner he would be back in his room, staring at the ceiling until he fell asleep, his compass open on the nightstand beside him.

 

_You were meant for more than this you know._

 

He dreamed of her again. He dreamed of them all. Peggy and Bucky were the ones he dreamed of the most. They were always smiling in his dreams. They were always gone when he woke up, alone, in the dark before dawn. He would get ready, have breakfast, and drink his coffee watching the sunrise. He had made it to another sunrise. A new day. Then to sunset. Then to sunrise. Sunset. Sunrise. One day at a time.

 

Did it still hurt? It didn’t hurt as much as it had when he awoke. Maybe he had just gotten used to it. Maybe he was moving on.

 

There was a creaking of metal bending out of shape when that thought crossed his mind.

 

He cleared his head and saw the mangled mess he had made of the workout equipment. Across the room, Natasha took a photo on her phone and sent it to the group chat.

 

“Cap 1. Stark’s Gym Equipment 0.”

 

Steve apologised profusely to Tony when he came to inspect the damage. He didn’t know how many times Howard almost came off his tongue. He got into the habit of calling him Stark when that felt like it would happen. He had called him Howard once by accident. The result had been Tony avoiding him for days. Steve hadn’t noticed, but the others had and it had been their nudging which made him realise his mistake.

 

Steve didn’t even touch the coffee that afternoon, letting Nat have the full cup. It was expensive, like everything was nowadays, but he didn’t want it.

 

“Captain Rogers, Miss Potts would like to see you in her office,” the calm tones of JARVIS informed him. Steve went down to meet with her.

 

“Captain Rogers, Miss Potts will just be a moment,” her assistant told him. He took a seat to wait. That’s all it felt like he was doing anymore, waiting for something to happen, waiting for a disaster, waiting for Clint to catch up running, waiting for it to be over.

 

_You were meant for more than this you know._

 

Her words haunted him. They taunted him. The voice in his head telling him to do better, to be better, to be more, to be a good man.

 

But he didn’t know what that meant anymore. All he had left of his life was how to be a soldier. He didn’t hate being a soldier but he wished he wasn’t one. But that was all he had left.

 

Steve didn’t realise he had zoned out staring at the wall until Pepper’s face knelt in front of him, her hand on his shoulder. He hurriedly jumped to his feet.

 

“Miss Potts, I’m sorry, you wanted to see me?” he said quickly as Pepper shared a glance with her assistant. She had thought she had gotten him into the habit of calling her Pepper.

 

“It’s alright, Captain Rogers,” she assured him. “I had a message from Director Fury wanting to see you at four thirty,” she told him, handing him a piece of paper with an address and time. The SHIELD office. “I can have a car ready to take you at ten past four.”

 

“Thank you but that won’t be necessary, ma’am, I could use the walk,” Steve told her.

 

“Okay,” Pepper said with a nod, pressing through on her tablet to clear the booking of the car.

 

“Was there anything else?” he asked.

 

“No, that was all,” Pepper assured him.

 

“Good day, Miss Potts,” he said giving her a nod and one to her assistant, hurrying out.

 

He set out straight away, even though it wouldn’t take him long to walk to the SHIELD office. But he had no intention of taking the direct route, going instead for a long wander through the city. He needed air. He needed invisibility in the throng of New York. He needed to be alone and in the crowds, he felt it. He felt alone.

 

He always felt alone.

 

But standing in the middle of Times Square, taking in the sights of all the tourists and lights and flashy gizmos and gadgets, the place where he had learnt what true loneliness was, that was where he felt most alone of all.

 

He walked the streets he had first run, making his way back to the SHIELD offices where this nightmare had started. Perhaps there he could finally wake up and end it all.

 

There was muffled shouting coming from Fury’s office when he arrived.

 

“I’m sorry, Captain Rogers, he’s had something come up, would you be able to wait until five?” the secretary asked.

 

“Fine,” Steve said, taking a seat. He could still hear shouting, which was strange considering it was meant to be completely soundproof.

 

“You continued the serum experiments?! I scrapped that after Howard died and this is how you bring it back? You call him Captain America to give people the hope in the figure Steve Rogers was! This is an affront to Steve’s memory and I will not stand for it, Nick! How dare you use his name for this! His actions, his memory, Captain Rogers gave his life and you are making a mockery of it!”

 

There was silence, presumably Fury talking.

 

“You have no idea who the fuck you are dealing with! Don’t give me your half truth bullshit! ...  Don’t call them in, we are not finished yet.”

 

“Captain Rogers, Director Fury has called you in,” the secretary informed Steve.

 

“I built the foundations for the Avengers initiative to be a testament to his memory, his legacy just as SHIELD is, and you went and fucked it up!” the shouting went on.

 

“Can’t you hear that?” Steve asked.

 

“Hear what, sir?” the secretary asked.

 

 _Super soldier hearing_ , Steve sighed inwardly, going through the doors into Fury’s office. He sat calmly at his desk, a brunette stood over him, still shouting. Except now Steve could recognise the voice. He recognised the swearing too. Well, some of it. He was pretty sure Dugan had taught them a few of those phrases.

 

Fury looked at him with a nod in his direction and she turned.

 

It was her.

 

Peggy’s face fell, staring at him.

 

Steve could feel tears welling in his eyes but he couldn’t stop staring at her.

 

“Nicholas Fury, you have one minute to explain,” she said coldly, not taking her eyes off of Steve.

 

“Peggy… is this real?” Steve breathed, taking a step towards her. She took one back, her jaw tightening.

 

“I believe you two already know each other,” Fury said coolly. Peggy clenched her hands into fists at her sides.

 

“If this is some sick joke I swear I will kill you,” Peggy told him, but her eyes were still on Steve.

 

“Captain Steve Rogers was recovered from the wreckage of the Valkyrie nine months ago,” Fury reported. _Nine months? Had it been that long?_ Steve wasn’t sure but it felt shorter, and yet decades longer at the same time. “At that point, it was discovered that he is in fact alive.”

 

“Peggy, it’s me,” Steve started, taking a step towards her again. She took one away.

 

“Steve Rogers is dead,” she told him. He could see the tears welling in her eyes, but they stayed open, staring him down. “I don’t know who the hell you are but you are not him.” Shadows seemed to form around her fists, darkness coalescing to take form.

 

“How can you say that?!” Steve asked, feeling his chest shattering with every step. “Peggy, I’m right here! Peggy!” With each step towards her she moved further and further back.

 

“How dare you,” she told him. “Steve Rogers was a good man. How dare you insult his memory with this charade.” She turned to Fury. “Go to hell.”

 

“Will anything convince you?” Fury asked calmly.

 

“Nothing will,” she said, turning to meet Steve’s eyes again. His face was morphed in such agony, he couldn’t bear it… “I heard him die. He is at peace. Leave his memory to rest with him.”

 

“Talk, I’m going to get a cup of coffee,” Fury excused himself.

 

“I am going to kill that man,” Peggy muttered once he had gone. Steve let himself fall to his knees. “Steve Rogers is dead.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Peggy,” Steve breathed shakily. “Please, please, believe me. I am right here. I’ll do anything, anything to prove it!”

 

“Go, the game is up,” she ordered him roughly.

 

“Peggy!”

 

“Get out!” she roared at him. “Can’t you see! He has been through enough! I have been through enough!” She strode up to him, grabbing his shirt by the front and hauling him to his feet.

 

There was nothing for it. Peggy Carter, she was standing right in front of him, staring him right in the face.

 

“Don’t you see me?” he pleaded with her. “You always saw me, _me_ , Peggy. You told me I was meant for more than this. I don’t know what to do, please...” Her eyes flicked slightly from side to side, reading his. He hadn’t realised but subconsciously he had reached into his pocket, pulling out the compass.

 

She let him go, staring at his hand.

 

“Where did you get that?” she demanded, her eyes flicking back up to meet his. “Open it,” she ordered. He did, and her photo was there. She took it out of his hands, taking out the photo.

 

“Please,” he said as she turned away, reading the writing on the inside.

 

_Do as Peggy says._

 

It was her own writing. No one else knew she had written it. No one else knew what it said. She put it back in the compass, swallowing down as she turned to face him, thrusting it back into his waiting hands.

 

“This isn’t possible,” she breathed, shaking her head. “You died. I heard you die. I _mourned_ you.” She wasn’t meeting his eye. Was that good or bad? “You died. Steve, you _died_.” She was clenching and unclenching her hands. “In the pub, the night you assembled the Howlers, what did I say I would do, when the war was over?”

 

“Go dancing,” Steve said, swallowing down, tears streaming down his face. “We were going to go dancing.”

 

“Camp Lehigh, what did you do that hadn’t been done in seventeen years,” she demanded.

 

“I got the flag off the flagpole,” he said.

 

“How?”

 

“I pulled out the pin, the pole fell over and I picked up the flag from the ground,” he said. No matter how long this interrogation lasted, he would answer her every question.

 

“The car, on the way to the Project Rebirth laboratory, how did you start our conversation.” He let out a weak laugh.

 

“I pointed out an alley, the back of a diner and a parking lot where I had been beaten up,” he said. “And you asked if I had something against running away. But if you start running, they’ll never let you stop and I won’t stop, Peggy. You are everything that I have left and I will not stop until you believe-”

 

“Faith,” she interrupted.

 

“Huh?”

 

“I have faith,” she said. “You always were impossible.” Fury came back with a cup of coffee, calmly walking through and sitting at his desk.

 

“No one’s dead so I take it that went well,” he remarked and sipped his coffee.

 

“He was alive all this time and you didn’t tell me?” Peggy asked him flatly. “You disgust me.” She grabbed Steve’s hand and led him out, down the corridor, into a stairwell where she stopped abruptly, turning and wrapping her arms around him, burying her head in his chest. He hugged her. She was mumbling, murmuring into his shirt. He could feel the dampness of her tears.

 

“Peggy?” he asked.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” she repeated over and over. He lowered his head, letting his own tears fall into her shoulder. “I’m here, my darling, I’m here. I’m so sorry, Steve.” His chest shook with silent sobs.

 

He cried.

 

For the first time in nine months, the string that had been taut in his heart snapped. He fell apart in her arms and she held him together.

 

“Can we go home, Peggy?” he asked huskily when he found his voice. “Can we go home at last?” She pulled back to smooth a hand over his shirt.

 

“Absolutely,” she told him. “Where is home?” He furrowed his brow ever so slightly, fighting away the image of the world he had lost. That would always be home in his heart, but where was his home in the _now_?

 

“Avengers Tower,” he said. Peggy blinked at him.

 

“No! Really?” she said in surprise. He nodded. She rested her forehead against him. “Listen, I have to go pick up a few things. Meet me in the car park, level four,” she instructed.

 

“You’re going?” he asked.

 

“Just for a moment. I’ll meet you there, I promise,” she assured him, kissing his cheek. She slipped down the stairs and vanished from sight before he could give further argument.

 

Had she even been real?

 

He headed down to the car park as she had asked, but she wasn’t in sight. He looked around over the roofs of all the vehicles… nowhere.

 

“Peggy?” he called out. A car drove up and stopped alongside him, the door winding down for him to see her.

 

“Hop in,” she told him. He did so, and she drove off into the street. He looked around at the car.

 

“It isn’t far,” he told her.

 

“Yes, but he had it coming,” she told him. Steve frowned.

 

“Peggy, whose car is this?” he asked.

 

“He’ll get it back soon enough,” Peggy assured him. Steve fought back laughter. _Fury’s car. Peggy has stolen Nick Fury’s car._

 

“Is this a good idea?”

 

“Just don’t put your feet up on the dashboard,” she told him, reaching over for the glove box. “Or do. Oh, I like that,” she remarked, taking out a handgun. “Check under your seat.” He obliged, finding a machine gun. “Really, Nick?” she sighed with a shake of her head. They stopped at a red light and she found a few knives around the place and a packet of mints. She moved the mints to another spot but left them in the car.

 

They came to Avengers Tower and she pulled into the private garage, opening the window for JARVIS to see her. He opened the doors for them.

 

“How do you…” Steve started.

 

“I still send Anthony Christmas cards,” she explained. “Now I’m wishing I had made more time to visit.” She parked the car and got out, sneaking the knives and handgun with a few extra rounds of ammo in her duffel bag. He followed her into the lift.

 

“Hello, JARVIS,” she called.

 

“Hello, Miss Carter,” he answered calmly. “Shall I alert Mr Stark that you are here?”

 

“No thank you, that’s quite alright,” Peggy assured him and looked to Steve.

 

“My suite, thanks, JARVIS,” Steve said.

 

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” JARVIS said calmly, taking them up through the building. Peggy reached across and entwined her fingers in Steve’s. He glanced across to meet her eye, smiling and turning to stare at his feet as he blushed. She squeezed his hand gently. The lift stopped and the doors opened, Peggy sticking her head out and looking both ways up and down the corridor.

 

“Which one is yours?” she asked. Steve pointed it out, keying in his door code to unlock it and let her inside. A desk, a bed, an ensuite bathroom. Peggy looked around the room. “How long have you lived here?” she asked, a tinge of worry in her voice. It was so spartan. _Steve deserves a proper home_. He scratched at the back of his neck.

 

“Well… not long… a few months, since they finished rebuilding…” he said.  

 

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom? Only, I just got back from a rather long mission, I should probably freshen up before you go introducing me to your teammates.” It was then he noticed she was wearing black tactical gear.

 

“Oh, um, yeah, yeah, go ahead, I’ll… I’ll ah…” He looked around the room. His tablet sat on the desk. He picked it up and gestured with it awkwardly. “Work.”

 

“Not too hard,” Peggy instructed him, taking her bag into the bathroom. He sat on the desk chair, putting the tablet down again, staring off into space.

 

_That was Peggy. I was just talking to Peggy. Peggy Carter. Peggy, my Peggy. Peggy is real. She is real. Peggy. Peggy is here._

 

_She’s alive._

 

He heard the shower start and remembered his own shirt. It wasn’t too bad, but it was Peggy, he wanted everything to be perfect. He went into the half empty closet, changing into a clean shirt. He sat down in the desk chair again. Peggy came out in pants the blue of his shield, with a white shirt and red kitten heels.

 

“You look lovely, my darling,” she told him, flashing him a red lipped smile. She had her hair pinned back in a twist.

 

Peggy.

 

“You look beautiful,” he breathed. She put the duffel bag aside. Stepping up to him and caressing his cheek.

 

“Thank you,” she told him. “Shall we go see your friends?”

 

“My… my friends?” he stammered.

 

“Your teammates, then,” she corrected.

 

“My… Oh, oh, yeah, if you want, sure,” he agreed, offering her his arm. She accepted with a smile. He took her to the landing and they went down the stairs. He had Peggy Carter on his arm and she looked stunning. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. They rounded the corner to find the others gathered around the lounge area table. Steve tore his gaze from her to clear his throat and introduce her when Tony loudly exclaimed.

 

“Aunt Peggy!” He bolted across the room, Peggy letting go of Steve’s arm to lift Tony up and spin him around once, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear.

 

“Hello, Anthony,” she said, setting him down and dusting off his shoulder. “I have a present for you.” She pulled out Nick Fury’s car keys.

 

“You’re my favourite aunt,” Tony told her, kissing her cheek.

 

“I’m your only aunt,” she told him.

 

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

 

“More importantly, what’s she doing here with Cap,” Clint chipped in.

 

“Everyone, this is Agent Carter,” Steve introduced her.

 

“I would ask if you are Cap’s girlfriend but Tony just called you his aunt, what is going on?” Nat said, eyes flicking between the two.

 

“I only just got here, so perhaps you lot might need to do the explaining,” Peggy pointed out.

 

“Peggy… Peggy Carter…” Bruce said in the background. “You… you started SHIELD…”

 

“Dude, that Peggy Carter was in the forties, she’d be ancient by now,” Clint argued.

 

“I just know some very good plastic surgeons,” Peggy fibbed.

 

“Steve, how could you do this man? A secret girlfriend? You can’t even keep a secret stash of hershey’s,” Clint appealed to him as Bruce went up to shake her hand.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Dr Banner, Bruce Banner.”

 

“It’s good to meet you too, Dr Banner,” she told him. “I am glad you survived your experiments.”

 

“Oh… you… heard about those,” he said, pushing his glasses higher up his nose and froze, turning to her. “Didn’t I run into you on the street? You told me to stop them and vanished…”

 

“Dude, secret girlfriend, really?” Clint demanded still seated on the sofa.

 

“I… I…” Steve started but couldn’t finish.

 

“Aunt Peggy, are these keys what I think they are?” Tony interjected. Nat’s eyes narrowed in on them.

 

“Why do you have Fury’s car keys?” she demanded.

 

“He won’t notice them gone until eight thirty at the latest, have fun, dear,” Peggy told Tony. He whooped with glee, running to the elevator to cause some mayhem. “If he asks, I was never here,” Peggy told him.

 

“Sure thing, Aunt Peggy!” Tony shouted as the elevator doors shut. Steve looked around in a stupor.

 

“Your secret girlfriend stole Nick Fury’s car keys? Not gonna lie, I’m impressed,” Clint admitted. “Clint Barton,” he introduced himself with a wave to her. “That’s Nat,” he pointed to Natasha who was still sat watching Peggy, staring at her with a cat like glare. Peggy met it, unfazed.

 

“Can I get you something, Peg? A cup of tea?” Steve offered.

 

“Yes, I’m dying for a cuppa,” Peggy heartily exclaimed, following him over to sit at one of the stools as he made the tea under her watchful eye. She accepted it with a big smile, closing her eyes and savouring the first sip. “Oh yes, that is wondrous.” Steve took the stool next to her, the two of them having their backs to the room as Clint tried to chat with Bruce and Nat who still watched Peggy. Pepper came in with a stack of take out menus, freezing when she saw Peggy on the stool. It only took her a moment to recover, striding over with a smile.

 

“Peggy, I had no idea you were here!” she exclaimed and Peggy turned to meet her smile.

 

“Pepper, how’ve you been? I only just got here,” Peggy told her, sharing a quick hug. “I gave Anthony something to keep him occupied a little while, hopefully it won’t make too much trouble.”

 

“He’s never needed help making trouble,” Pepper told her. “Are you staying? I can call someone up to get a guest room ready.”

 

“Oh, no, my dear, it’s fine, I’m just about asleep on my feet as is,” Peggy assured her. Pepper looked between Peggy and Steve with a knowing smile.

 

“Of course,” she said and turned to survey the room. “Where are Tony and Thor?”

 

“Darcy took Thor on a trip to the zoo, so he’ll be back in time for food,” Clint supplied. “Tony is doing something to Fury’s car.” Pepper turned to Peggy, her face falling.

 

“You didn’t,” she accused.

 

“He needed a lesson,” Peggy said simply. Pepper raised her hands in surrender. She took a vote from those present of what to have for dinner, consensus coming to Thai takeout. She placed the order, as well as what she knew Tony liked and what they knew from experience would fill up Thor the best. Tony came in after she made the call, flopping onto the available sofa next to Pepper and sharing a kiss. He had showered and changed since they had last seen him.

 

“What have you been up to?” Pepper asked him.

 

“It’s a surprise,” Tony said. “Nick called early, so I couldn’t completely finish. But I sent word to Maria Hill, I’m hoping she’ll film it for us.”

 

“Good lad,” Peggy said approvingly.

 

“Also, I locked the keys inside it, that was fun to watch,” Tony added. “Just said I found it in the garage like that.”

 

“Nice touch,” Clint said. “What did Fury do though?”

 

“He crossed Peggy Carter.”

 

“She didn’t even tell you why and you just went and sabotaged his car?” Nat scoffed at Tony.

 

“Sabotage is a strong word,” Tony argued. “I just tweaked a few things. Made a few additions. Nothing dangerous, Romanov.” She threw him a glare and looked back to Peggy.

 

Thor arrived back not long before food wearing a gaudy hat and carrying a cup with a polar bear head shaped lid.

 

“Good tidings, my comrades! I have returned from the menagerie!” he exclaimed with great gravitas. He spotted Peggy and headed to her, removing his cap. “Greetings, I do not believe we have yet met.”

 

“Peggy Carter,” she supplied, offering a hand for him to shake.

 

“Lady Carter, I am Thor Odinson,” he introduced himself, taking the hand and kissing it.

 

“Careful dude, that’s Cap’s girlfriend,” Clint chimed.

 

“You mean my aunt,” Tony argued.

 

“Ah, you have at last found a worthy companion!” Thor exclaimed, thwacking Steve in a brotherly manner on the back. “I am glad for you, my brother. We shall revel upon this joyous occasion!” All the heads turned as the delivery of their dinner arrived. “The feast has arrived!” There was a scramble for everyone collecting their meals, Pepper handing them out one by one. They congregated around the large dining table.

 

“Say, Cap, you’ve been pretty quiet all evening,” Clint observed as Steve barely kept his eyes off of Peggy sat beside him. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of him either.

 

“I… er…” he said in a fluster, blushing. “Big day,” he supplied.

 

“Big night ahead too, I’m betting, oof!” Clint voiced, the last when an empty container hit him in the face. Tony hid a smirk, all eyes going to Peggy who was delicately wiping the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

 

“What? He was too far away to punch,” Peggy said.

 

“Yeah, like you could hit me, old lady,” Clint teased her.

 

“Is that an invitation?” Peggy demanded, turning a raised eyebrow on him.

 

“Right hook?” Nat asked her. Peggy shifted her gaze to her with a nod. Nat shrugged, taking her eyes off of Peggy.

 

“ _How could you tell_?” Peggy asked curiously in Russian.

 

“ _Not many people from the 1940s, or ever, faced off against graduates and lived to tell_ ,” Nat responded.

 

“What did they say?” Tony asked, looking around the table.

 

“Nothing that concerns you,” Peggy told him smartly and checked her watch, then stood. “Time I turned in. Good night.” Steve stood as she did. He mutely watched her leave the room, the others all eyeing him as he stood there for a few moments after.

 

“So, secret girlfriend, tell all,” Clint prompted him. Steve blushed a deep crimson, clearing up the remains of his dinner and following Peggy out without a word. “Seriously?” Clint sighed.


	2. Stay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve invites Peggy to stay and has to wake up to the reality of this not being a dream.

Steve found Peggy in the midst of removing her makeup.

 

“You can stay up with them if you want, Steve,” she assured him, seeing him in the reflection. 

 

“I would rather be with you,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. She smiled, then resumed washing her face. “Are you… are you staying?” he asked eagerly. 

 

“Are you inviting me to?” she responded. He nodded. “Then yes. I am staying.” She took her little bag of toiletries, putting it in the duffel bag. 

 

“With me?” he asked after a few moments. 

 

“You did just invite me to,” she pointed out, grabbing a pair of pyjamas from the bag and zipping it closed. She went back into the bathroom to change and he went to the closet. They stood side by side in the bathroom afterwards as they cleaned their teeth. It was so wonderfully simple and yet meant the universe. Peggy braided back her hair and loosely secured it before she climbed into the bed with him, scooting over to snuggle against him. She let out a soft yawn. “Good night, my darling.” 

 

“Good night, Peggy,” he whispered back. She looked so beautiful, lying there, her eyes closed. It wasn’t far… if he just moved ever so slightly… he placed a kiss to her forehead. He waited for her to react, but all she did was snuggle closer, fast asleep. Pretty soon he was as well. It had after all, been a big day for them both. 

 

* * *

 

“So, Peggy Carter,” Clint remarked as the rest of the Avengers all sat around the common area. Bruce sat back at the kitchen bench with a cup of tea, Tony with Pepper on a sofa, Thor in an armchair that had jokingly been dubbed his throne and Nat on another sofa, laid out, watching the rest of them. Clint was sat on an ottoman stool. “Show of hands who knew Cap had a secret girlfriend before she walked in?” Not a single hand went up. “Wow, okay then.” 

 

“He didn't know she was still alive, Clint,” Nat told him dryly. 

 

“Rogers did seem very glad and surprised to see her,” Thor agreed with her.

 

“You seemed to know of her as well,” Clint pestered her. Nat merely shrugged vaguely. 

 

“Her reputation precedes her,” Bruce said. “Although I didn't know she was still alive either.” Eyes turned to Tony. He raised his hands in surrender. 

 

“You know her pretty well,” Clint accused him. 

 

“She's my only family, okay?” Tony said. “She and my father used to work together.” 

 

“Who are the plastic surgeons she knows?” Nat queried. 

 

“Why? You wanting work done?” Clint laughed. She whacked him with a pillow. 

 

“She doesn't look like she's had any work done at all,” Bruce calmly observed. 

 

“I do not understand, what is this surgery of plastic?” Thor inquired curiously. 

 

“It's this surgery some people get done to try and look younger,” Tony explained. 

 

“Why would they wish that?” Thor frowned. “Is age not a sign of experience and thereby wisdom and respect among Midgardians?”

 

“It is if you're a dude,” Clint informed him. Nat and Pepper shared knowing glances. 

 

“That is a strange custom,” Thor remarked. 

 

“Has she aged at all since you were a kid?” Nat asked Tony. 

 

“Yes… probably? I don't know, she's my aunt, I never looked too closely,” Tony flapped about. 

 

“Who looks young enough to be your daughter,” Clint teased him. 

 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Tony objected. 

 

“It means she is meant to be old, dude,” Clint told him. 

 

“Perhaps she shared of the serum with our Captain Rogers,” Thor suggested. 

 

“I don't see how,” Tony argued. 

 

“Dude she literally lifted you up and spun you like you were a little kid!” Clint exclaimed in exasperation. Tony shrugged. 

 

“She's always done that,” he said. Clint let out a cry of frustration, planting his hand over his face. 

 

“Let us drink to their reunion and hope it returns Rogers to good spirits!” Thor declared. 

* * *

 

Steve woke up as light peeked through the bedroom curtains. He had slept through the night. He had slept  _ with Peggy _ through the night. Peggy, who now lay with a leg wrapped around him, half on top of him, still pleasantly sleeping. He held perfectly still, scarcely daring to breathe lest he ruin whatever spell it was that held her there. His heart was racing from the contact underneath her head against his chest. 

 

For a moment her brow furrowed and she let out a yawn, cracking open an eye to look up at him with a drowsy smile. He was about to meet it with his own when it quickly shifted to a frown and she buried her face into his chest. 

 

“Please tell me it isn't morning already,” she grumbled, muffled against him. 

 

“Didn't you sleep well?” he asked. 

 

“I did, but not enough,” she said in a huff, turning her head to lay her ear on his chest, pouting a little. He was going to stare at her longer, but she grabbed the covers and pulled them up over her head. He couldn't help but smile now, wrapping his arms around her under the blanket. 

 

_ She is real. It happened. She's real. Thank God I am not alone anymore!  _

 

Peggy peeked her head out of the covers. 

 

“Steve? Why are you crying?” she asked. He didn't want to let her go to wipe away his tears. 

 

“Happy that you're still here, Peg,” he admitted, his voice a little husky from being so emotional. She smiled, her own eyes shining. She reached out and wiped away his tears before resting against his side again. 

 

It was perfect.  _ She  _ was perfect. Steve wanted to wake up like that for the rest of his life. For the rest of their lives. Together. As they should have been…

 

Could they? The war was over. There was nothing to stop them. 

 

For a while he thought she had fallen back to sleep but Peggy stirred, rolling off him to her side of the bed. One night and she had a side. He couldn't stop smiling. 

 

“Please tell me you do the sensible thing of eating breakfast before you do any work,” she said. 

 

“Of course, want me to go make you some?” he offered. 

 

“Mmm, that would be divine,” she agreed with a smile, opening her eyes again at last. She turned and met his eye. A moment later she had slid across to kiss his cheek. Another and she was gone to the bathroom to get ready. Steve followed suit, getting dressed. She opened the door, wearing jeans, a plain dark grey tshirt and short boots. 

 

She tossed a leather jacket on top of the duffle bag, and positioned herself to one side of the mirror with the small bag of toiletries and a travel sized hairbrush. He picked up his comb, smoothing over his hair that had been mused with sleep as Peggy rebraided hers and applied her red lipstick. 

 

“Coffee,” was all she said as she put the small bag away. He was still smiling like a loony as he took her to the common area, putting on the coffee pot as she sat on a stool at the bench. He gave her the first cup. She took a sip, closing her eyes, letting the warmth seep through all the cracks. 

 

“Wonderful,” she decreed. “Thank you, my darling.” He was so happy he was fit to burst! Steve set about making breakfast and Peggy asked JARVIS for the news, reading it off of a screen projected from the bench. “Good, the world hasn't ended,” she remarked, shutting it off as she joined him carrying their meal to the table, sitting together and eating. 

 

“So, what do you typically do after breakfast?” Peggy asked once they had finished. 

 

“Well… ah…” Steve looked around. “Normally I'd drink a cup of coffee as I watched the sunrise.” Except now the sun was already up. And she was looking at him. 

 

“Then?” she prompted. 

 

“Go do my morning workout,” he informed her. He saw her eyebrow raise. “I'd watch the sunrise for a while, I know, let food settle,” he assured her. She smiled approvingly. “I should probably check my itinerary for the day,” he admitted. Her eyes widened.

 

“Yes, yes, you have work,” she realised. The two of them returned to his room. They cleaned their teeth together and she touched up her lipstick as he checked his tablet. There were two papers Pepper needed him to look at and have signed but other than that, his schedule was completely free with the note “have fun with Peggy x”. He was still smiling to himself when she came out of the bathroom. “Good news?” she asked. 

 

“Pepper cleared my schedule,” he informed her. “I just have to sign two things and the day is all ours.” 

 

“Splendid,” she said, sharing his smile. He sat at the desk to read the documents as she sat on the bed to stare out the window. When he finished, he went and sat behind her, threading an arm around her waist. She leant back into him, turning her head to gaze at him adoringly. “I waited a long time for this,” she sighed. He had no idea what she meant before she leant her head up to kiss the corner of his mouth. It was short and gentle but nothing like the urgency of their first so many months ago, a lifetime in fact. 

 

Steve took a second to open his eyes after it was over.  _ It was over so soon…  _ He leant in towards her. Peggy instead spun around in his arms, laying her legs across his lap, arms around his neck. They had time. Long and sweet and soft he could taste the mint of their toothpaste mixed with the coffee they'd had before. He let out a deep noise he wasn't even sure how he had made, Peggy pulling away to rest her forehead against his as she caught her breath. One of her hands had worked its way to run her fingers through the short hair on the back of his head. His arms circled around her, holding her close. 

 

She laughed softly, and he felt her hand let go of his hair. He pouted, thinking she was letting go only for her thumb to be rubbing against his lips. 

 

“You've got my lipstick on you,” she explained in a light whisper. She was so close he could feel her breath against his face, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. “There, all better.” He opened his eyes to find her looking into his. “Are we going to sit here all day or go work out?” she asked him.  

 

He wanted to say ‘sit here’. He  _ desperately  _ wanted to say it. As always with Peggy he was torn between what he wanted to do and what he should do. But still the choice was his. She wouldn't have given him the options if she wasn't accepting of either scenario. 

 

“Stark… Tony built some new gym equipment, after Thor and I broke the old ones,” Steve informed her. 

 

“Sounds fun,” she said. “I'll meet you down there in fifteen minutes, shall I? I need to go sort out some chores.” He regretfully let her go at last, Peggy squeezing his arm a little as she stood. “Don't look so glum, Steve, it's just fifteen minutes,” she reminded him, picking up her duffel bag and leaving. Still, he changed and headed downstairs, going at it with the Stark advanced punching bag. He had just warmed up when Peggy appeared through the doors. “Break anything while I was gone?” she asked with a nod to the remains of the machine in the corner. 

 

“That happened yesterday,” he said. Peggy let out a laugh, taking off her jacket. Steve froze, the punching bag swinging back to strike him. He let out an oof and Peggy’s head shot up to see him holding the bag, eyes fixed on it. Too fixed. His ears were a bright pink. 

 

“Still not accustomed to modern fashion?” she asked, heading to the mats to stretch. He smiled, blushing all the more, still keeping his eyes fixed on the punching bag. 

 

“Not used to seeing you wearing it, I guess,” he confided with a nervous laugh. He couldn't get the image of her in canvas sneakers, leggings, and a racerback camisole over a sports bra out of his mind. All her curves, her whole body was just… “You look good,” he offered. “Nice,  I mean. You look... well...” 

 

“Spit it out, Steve,” she ordered him in a teasing tone. 

 

“Exquisite,” he said. 

 

“Look me in the eye and say it,” she ordered. He ducked his head. But he had to do as she said. He turned to see her stretching her shoulders, watching him expectantly. 

 

“You're exquisite,” he told her. 

 

“Thank you,” she said. Peggy started on one of the machines, one of Stark’s creations. Steve went at it with the punching bag for another ten minutes. Peggy swapped out from him, taping her knuckles before she let loose. He was sorely tempted to watch, but that didn't feel right. He took to the bench press, staring at the ceiling as he heard Peggy’s fists, elbows, knees and feet hitting the punching bag in succession. They rotated around a few times, Nat coming in to watch. 

 

“Can I have a go?” she asked Peggy once they were done, Peggy wiping sweat from her forehead. Her red lipstick was still impeccable. 

 

“Not a fair fight,” Peggy said calmly.

 

“No weapons, hand to hand,” Nat said. 

 

“Five minutes?” Peggy asked. 

 

“Two,” Nat said. 

 

“Fine,” Peggy said, going to the taps and taking a long drink before going to the mats to stretch again. Nat texted Clint. 

 

You don't want to miss this. Gym. Now. 

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Peg?” Steve asked her quietly.

 

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt her too badly,” she reassured him with a smile. 

 

“Nat is the Black Widow,” he pointed out. 

 

“I know who she is,” Peggy told him. Steve blinked at her in surprise. “As long as she doesn't pop out my elbow with an arm lock, I'll be fine.” Steve realised Peggy might actually be right.  _ She wouldn't accept Nat’s challenge without knowing what she was up against.  _ He settled on the bench to watch. 

 

“No weapons,” Peggy quoted back to Nat. Nat pulled out a gun. “All of them.” She took out the extra clip. 

 

“Now you,” Nat ordered. Peggy reached into the back of her shirt, pulling out a small gun. “Nice, cute,” Nat remarked, but Peggy reached back again, pulling out two knives. “Very cute.” Nat approved, taking out the knife from her shoe. Weapons aside they headed to the sparring square marked on the mats. Clint arrived rubbing sleep from his eyes just as Peggy and Nat started to circle one another. 

 

“Sweet, kick her ass, Carter!” he cheered, going and sitting on the bench with Steve to watch as the two exchanged parries. Clint pulled out his phone to film. It all seemed to be going well until a few twists and Peggy caught off balance found her caught in an arm lock. There was a pop and she cried out, Steve starting to his feet. The next second Peggy had Nat pinned to the ground. Clint leapt up, cheering for Peggy. 

 

“I shouldn't have fallen for that,” Nat grumbled. 

 

“Done?” Peggy asked her. 

 

“Done, good match,” Nat said and Peggy let her go, offering her a hand up with her left hand. 

 

“I look forward to the next one,” Peggy assured her. 

 

“You got your ass handed to you!” Clint said, pointing at Nat with a grin. 

 

“Traitor,” Nat told him, but she was smiling. Peggy nodded to Steve, picking up her jacket she had all her weapons wrapped in. Again with her left hand. His concern started to show on his face instantly. They went upstairs to his room. 

 

“Are you hurt?” Steve asked her.

 

“I'll be fine in a few hours, I'll just need to ice it,” she assured him. “Mind if I have first shower?” 

 

“Dr Banner could have a look at your arm, I-”

 

“Steve, don't worry,” Peggy told him. “I've had worse.” It was meant to reassure him. It didn't. Peggy headed in to the bathroom to shower. Steve paced back and forth around the room. He heard her let out a grunt of pain. 

 

“Peggy? Peggy, are you okay?” he demanded. 

 

“I'm okay,” she called out. He didn't believe her. She came out in her tshirt and jeans and boots again. He could see her elbow joint was all red and swollen. 

 

“Peggy, let Dr Banner take a look at that,” he said. 

 

“Shower is all yours,” Peggy told him instead. “I'm going to get some ice.” She took some of the weapons out of the jacket, placing the knives in each boot and the gun at the back of her shirt. 

 

“No, you're hurt, you need that checked out,” he argued, taking her left hand gently, but firmly. 

 

“Steve, stop it,” Peggy told him. “Steve!” He didn't listen, face set determinedly. 

 

“JARVIS, where is Dr Banner?” Steve asked. 

 

“Dr Banner is in the kitchen,” JARVIS informed him. Steve led the way, Bruce mid sip of tea when they reached him. 

 

“Agent Carter is hurt,  can you please help?” Steve asked, presenting Peggy.

 

“I'm fine,” Peggy argued, taking her hand out of Steve’s. “He's just worried.”

 

“Still, that doesn't look comfortable,” Bruce remarked, peering at her elbow. “Can I ask what happened?”

 

“She fought Agent Romanov,” Steve said. 

 

“And this was the only injury? I'm impressed,” Bruce admitted. “May I?” he asked Peggy, reaching out for her arm. She sighed and offered it up, wincing a little as he carefully examined it  “Inflamed joint and tendons. Arm lock?” 

 

“I just need some ice, it'll be fine,” Peggy told him. 

 

“Unlikely, often people need surgery-”

 

“I said it'll be fine,” Peggy snapped, taking her arm out of his grip and going to the freezer and grabbing a pack. 

 

“Peggy!” Steve objected. She turned to him with a glare. 

 

“I have been managing on my own since 1945, Captain Rogers. I appreciate your concern but kindly  _ back off _ .” He opened his mouth to argue but shut it, meeting her glare with his own. Bruce took his cup of tea and went to leave, Clint spinning him around at the doorway to drag him back.

 

“Banner, check it out, Nat got her butt kicked,” he said with glee, holding the phone for Bruce to watch the video. “Oh, hey guys!” Clint said seeing Steve and Peggy still glaring at each other in front of the fridge. “What's with them?” he asked of Bruce. Thor entered with Nat, discussing the fight Clint had just shown him the footage of blow by blow. 

 

“Do not be disheartened, Lady Natasha, for you fought well and with honour!” he declared. 

 

“Yeah, that's a negative on the honour,” Clint told him. Thor paused seeing Peggy and Steve still glaring it out. 

 

“Is there a-” Thor started and saw Steve’s hands clench. “Problem?” 

 

“I am fine, Steve,” Peggy told him icily. 

 

“No, Peggy, you're not, this isn't fine, you're hurt,” he argued. 

 

“Steve, really, she's going to be okay, you should listen to her,” Nat told him, going over to the kitchen and reaching between them to open the fridge door. It slammed shut a second later, Steve forcing it so hard that his handprint dented into the metal. 

 

“You heard her! You heard her say it was her weakness! You didn't need to do it and you still did, Nat! Why would you do that? You just had to go and hurt her!” he shouted. Peggy stepped around Nat. 

 

“You do not speak to her like that, Captain Rogers!” she barked at him. “Go cool off. I'll wait here for when you can talk to us both like an adult and not a toddler throwing a tantrum. Out, now!” He looked ready to fight, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Don't make me say it again.” He gritted his teeth, turning around and striding out in a rage. Peggy waited a second after he was gone before she started calmly making herself a cup of tea. Nat grabbed a can of soda, both she and Peggy sitting on the sofas. 

 

“Movie?” Clint asked. 

* * *

 

Steve slammed his fists into the wall of the shower, cracking a tile. 

 

_ Dammit!  _

 

It didn't make sense, he just wanted to keep her safe, to protect her, to… 

 

“Dammit, I should have listened to her,” he murmured into the water. She had told him to stop but she was hurt, and he saw red. 

 

That wasn't meant to happen, she wasn't meant to get hurt or feel pain, she was just meant to be happy. Safe and happy and alive and there but now he was alone. 

 

_ I pushed too hard.  _

 

No. That wasn't it. 

 

_ I didn't listen.  _

 

Yes. 

 

Decades, since 1945, she had taken care of herself. Without him. She didn't need him. 

 

He turned his face up into the water. 

 

She didn't need him. All she had done without him after the war, starting SHIELD, he would have only held her back. She didn't need him, in fact she had thrived without him. 

 

_ But I need you, Peggy.  _

 

He couldn't bear going back to those long months he had spent alone. 

 

_ I need you.  _

 

_ I need you. _

 

_ I need you. _

 

_ Maybe I did the right thing, sleeping away those years. _

 

* * *

 

Steve ventured back, head down, finding Peggy waiting with the others as she had said. Clint was juggling hers and Nat’s knives.

 

“Steve- ah fuck!” Clint swore, jumping back as the knives dropped, sticking the finger he had nicked in his mouth. “Mm okay ips jusp a scraps,” he mumbled around it as Nat laughed at him, picking up the knives. She handed Peggy’s back to her, Peggy sheathing them before standing and walking over to Steve. She could see how sorry he was. 

 

“I'm sorry, I should have listened to you,” he said. “I'll do better.” 

 

“I have faith that you will,” she said and nodded her head towards Nat. 

 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, Agent Romanoff,” he said. 

 

“I'll forgive you if you come delete the video from Clint’s phone,” Nat told him. 

 

“What? Hey, no, that's like my one blackmail chip,” he exclaimed defensively. 

 

“ _ Not that I don’t mind losing to the Ghost, but no one else knows it's you _ ,” Nat told Peggy in Russian. 

 

“And I'd like to keep it that way,” Peggy told Nat. 

 

“Sure,” Nat said with a shrug. “Are you going to delete the video?” she asked of Steve. He strode across the room towards Clint who grabbed his phone off the coffee table, clutching it close.

 

“You'll never take me alive!” Clint proclaimed and ran from the room. Steve went to run after him but Peggy stopped him with a light touch to his arm. 

 

“It's already taken care of,” she whispered to him. 

 

“What's up with Barton?” Tony asked as he plodded in wearing an ironman onesie, going straight for the coffee. He grabbed the pot itself, drinking directly from it, leaning against the kitchen bench. 

 

“Well, Lady Natasha challenged Lady Carter to a fight,” Thor started to explain. “A grand battle for the ages! Though Lady Carter was victorious, she sustained an injury which greatly upset Captain Rogers. Which led to them shouting-”

 

“Clint filmed the fight and I want the video gone,” Natasha said succinctly. 

 

“Not before I've seen it,” Tony said, raising the coffee pot in toast to Peggy. “Well done, Aunt Peggy.” His phone buzzed and he fished it out of his pocket. “Oh my god, you guys are gonna love this, Barton get your ass back in here!” Tony yelled, leaping over the back of a sofa to land beside Thor. A few clicks and the screen flickered into life. Peggy fought back laughter as they recognised Fury’s car. “Any second now… any second…”

 

“What did you actually-” Steve started to ask when Greensleeves started blaring followed by Fury loudly shouting “ _ Staaaaarrrk! _ ” 

 

“That's what you get, bastard,” Peggy muttered under her breath. 

 

“Ice cream truck? Oh,” Clint said, sticking his head in the doorway. “Is that Fury?”

 

“I was rigging up some holo projectors to give the full look,” Tony admitted. “Didn't get to finish it. I have reprogrammed the sat nav too. Now it calls him a wanker, bastard, arse, nitwit, and, my personal favourite, Santa.” He looked up at Peggy. She gave him the nod of approval. “No one fucks with my aunt.”

 

“Tony, language!” Steve exclaimed in a shocked tone. 

 

“You're not my uncle,” Tony retorted then looked to Peggy. “Is he? You're not my uncle yet anyway. You'd tell me if you were getting married, right?” 

 

“Anthony don't ask, and thank you for that,” Peggy said, walking over to the back of the couch, leaning over it to kiss his forehead. 

 

“You can always count on me, Aunt Peggy,” he said with a grin. 

 

“That I can.” She went to the dining table, putting down the ice to check her arm. Bruce went over to have a look as well.

 

“How is this revenge? And while I am entertained, I am curious how Director Fury slighted you to incur such wrath,” Thor said. 

 

“Revenge is a dish best served cold, like ice cream,” Tony explained. “Sweet, cold, and lots of it.” 

 

“Yeah but what did Nick do?” Nat asked and saw Peggy meet Steve’s eye. Her eyes widened. “Really?” 

 

“What really? What did he do? Someone say it!” Clint pleaded. 

 

“Did Nick not tell you?” Nat asked in disbelief. Steve and Peggy were both silent. 

 

“Not tell them what?” Thor asked as the others eyes grew wide. 

 

“So… neither of you knew the other was alive until yesterday?” Tony said in surprise. “That son of a-” He stopped at Steve’s stern look. “This surely deserves bigger revenge than just messing with his car. What do you want me to do? Hack his phone? Computer?”

 

“Thank you, Anthony, I'll let you know if I require further assistance,” Peggy told him. 

 

“How about three months off grid for the two of you at the beach house?” he offered instead.

 

“Raincheck?” Peggy asked. 

 

“Okay,” Tony agreed. 

 

“Where the fuck is the video!” Clint loudly interrupted, looking at his phone. “What the fuck did you do, Romanov?!” He turned to Nat accusingly. As they bickered, Peggy slipped her hand into Steve’s the two of them quietly leaving the room. 

 

“How's your arm?” he asked gently as they sat at the top of the stairs. 

 

“It'll be okay by tomorrow,” she assured him. “I just have to go easy on it for the rest of the day.” That hadn't answered his question. She met his eye and sighed, leaning against him. “It's sore right now.”

 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he offered. “Do you want some painkillers?”

 

“I've already had some, thank you for asking though,” she said. “Is it always so loud?” 

 

“I… tune most of it out,” he admitted meekly. 

 

“It's been hard, but you've got a good team here, Steve, you should be proud,” Peggy assured him. 

 

“I couldn't have done it without you,” he said then added, “What you taught me, back at Camp Lehigh, and across Europe… I know you did fine without me, but… I need you.”

 

“Is that what my record makes you think?” she asked. “Sure, I could survive without you. Look at you, you've survived the last nine months. You've run missions with your team and SHIELD. At your work, you've been excelling. You don't need me to survive, Steve. But, I think, we need each other to live.” She smiled at him until suddenly her face fell. “Shit, I forgot,” she muttered, jumping to her feet and dashing down the stairs, going around to the utility room, Steve following, alarmed. 

 

“Do not worry, Miss Carter, I have taken care of the laundry,” JARVIS calmly informed her. “You seemed otherwise occupied.” Peggy drew a sigh of relief. 

 

“Thank you, JARVIS, you are every bit as thoughtful as your namesake,” Peggy told him. 

 

“Thank you, Miss Carter,” he responded, a robotic arm passing her a basket of clothes. She propped it against her hip, holding it with one arm. Peggy turned to find Steve watching in the doorway. 

 

“Can I carry that for you?” he offered. 

 

“Yes, thank you,” Peggy said, turning for him to take it out of her arm. They headed upstairs together, Steve depositing the basket on the end of the bed. 

 

“You… can use the other half of the closet… if you like,” he suggested as she pulled a snack bar out of her duffel bag. Peggy paused looking up at him. 

 

“You're serious?” she asked him. Steve nodded, feeling small, even though he presently towered over her half bent over frame. She straightened, snack bar still in hand. “You realise I will have to travel with my work?” 

 

“You'll still need somewhere to come back to… to come home to…” he said. “Please?”

 

“Yes,” she said. Steve blinked. 

 

“You're moving in with me?” he asked in surprise. 

 

“That is what you were just asking,” she said. He grinned. “I'll put my toothbrush at the sink.” 


	3. Lunch is an Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Peggy start to get comfortable in the new life they're making.

It didn't take long for her to have her clothes and personal items unpacked. She left most of her weapons in the duffel bag. He was about to put it away in the cupboard when she pulled out a knife and cut a hole in it, opening a hidden compartment. She took out a sealed slip, set it on the bed and put the duffel bag away. 

 

“So we can make it more like a home,” she told him. “But first, lunch.” 

 

Tony was already eating the leftover Thai from the night before. Together, Steve and Peggy ransacked the pantry and fridge, making their meal. 

 

“So, why did you stay in America after the war?” Steve asked as the three were all sat at the table. 

 

“Well… to continue working for the SSR for one thing,” Peggy told him. “To hold on to your legacy. Also England was still on rations a while after the United States. I like my milky tea.” She emphasised this with a sip of it. “Why did you stay with SHIELD and now the Avengers?” 

 

Steve froze. He hadn't really thought about it… it was just the thing to do it had seemed… 

 

“Nick didn't give you much option, did he,” she said knowingly. 

 

“Not really,” Steve admitted. “Knowing you founded SHIELD was also part of the reason.” 

 

“How about you, Anthony?” Peggy asked. 

 

“This is what I've wanted since I was little,” Tony said. “Save the world, and be part of a great team doing it.” He looked to Steve. “Like you.” Steve blinked in surprise. 

 

“I wanted to be an artist,” Steve said. Tony raised his eyebrows. 

 

“I tried to tell you,” Peggy told Tony. 

 

“But… the Howling Commandos…”

 

“Tony, I was in the USO for a year and only got out when Peggy told me my best friend was captured, possibly dead,” Steve informed him. “I went into Azzano to get him and anyone else out that I could.” 

 

“But… but…” Tony opened and shut his mouth like a codfish for a minute. “The Captain America Adventure Hour?” 

 

“Was a bunch of phooey,” Peggy said. 

 

“What Captain America Adventure Hour?” Steve asked Peggy.

 

“Google it, but I'm not listening to it,” Peggy told him. 

 

“You didn't want to be a soldier?” Tony asked him. 

 

“It was never about being a soldier,” Steve told him. “I don't like bullies. It was about being a good man.” 

 

“But you're Mr Goody two shoes,” Tony insisted. Steve snorted. Peggy grinned, shaking her head. 

 

“Is this seriously what people think of me?” Steve asked Peggy incredulously. “No, a goody two shoes is not me. I got into fights at school-”

 

“In alleys,” Peggy put in. 

 

“Behind diners,” Steve said, meeting her eye with a smile. 

 

“And in that car park,” Peggy added. “But always for a good reason.” 

 

“Oh yeah, I didn't go looking for fights,” Steve hurriedly said, remembering it was Howard’s son he was talking to. “Just… when I saw an injustice I had to speak up. And bullies have nothing against punching up a little guy.” 

 

“But dad said-”

 

“Your father spent most of the war in a lab,” Peggy told him. “He did fly us out to Azzano, but then it was to Lucerne for fondue.” 

 

“How did you talk Howard into flying that plane anyway?” Steve looked to Peggy with a curious puzzlement.

 

“It wasn't too hard, he liked seeing you in uniform,” Peggy informed him. Steve stilled. Tony almost choked. She covered a sudden yawn. “Goodness. You'll have to excuse me, the last nine decades are catching up with me.” She stood with a sigh, getting to her feet, Steve following suit. He sat again once she had left the room. 

 

“So… what does Steve Rogers like?” Tony asked after a few minutes. Steve looked up at him, confused. “It seems like I know barely anything about you, so tell me about yourself.” 

 

What was there to tell? Steve wondered. What was there  _ left  _ to tell? He merely smiled, standing and offering Tony his hand. 

 

“I’ll get back to you when there’s something to tell,” he told him. He left the room but didn’t immediately follow Peggy to their room.  _ Our room. Funny how fast things change.  _ He went to the balcony, feeling the wind in his hair. He’d had it trimmed shorter because that had seemed the modern style… and because he had wanted to forget. He had wanted to forget the feeling of fingers running through it. He had wanted to forget Bucky’s jibes about the length before he would hand Bucky some shears to cut it. He did a terrible job cutting it, although Steve knew that wasn’t on purpose. Barbers costed money and money wasn’t abundant. 

 

That had been one of the things he had liked about the twenty first century. He had an income here. He could afford the outrageous coffee and to keep his hair cut neatly. 

 

He could afford them, but that didn’t mean he liked them. It didn’t mean he wanted them. 

 

What did he want? 

 

_ I want to go see how Peggy is, if she is indeed asleep.  _ He headed up to the room, entering as quietly as he could. She lay still on the bed. 

 

“Peg?” he whispered. It was so soft, he hadn’t thought it would wake her, but she spun around, handgun whisked out from under her pillow, pointing it at him. The very next instant she threw it across the room into a corner. 

 

“Steve…” she murmured groggily and let out a sigh. 

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said. 

 

“Light sleeper,” she explained. He frowned. 

 

“You were never a light sleeper,” he pointed out. 

 

“Not in the war, after it,” she explained and paused. “You too?” she asked. 

 

“I slept for nearly seventy years, I guess my body is trying to catch up on hours awake,” he said. He stood there, just inside the door…

 

“Are you going to stand there and stare or are you going to join me?” she said, with a hint of her tired roughness. Steve didn’t need any further invitation, climbing onto his side of the bed and wrapping her in his arms. She fell back to sleep quickly. He didn’t sleep, instead examining every detail of her relaxed face, memorising her smell and the feeling of her against his side, in his arms. It could have been hours. It could have been minutes. It could have been forever. 

 

“Dude, we going for that run or not?” Clint shouted outside the door, startling them both. He knocked on it a few times. “I know you’re in there man, you aren’t smart enough to fool JARVIS.” 

 

“If we’re quiet do you think he’ll go away?” Steve whispered under his breath. Clint only banged at the door some more. Peggy grimaced, turning over and covering her head with a pillow. “Okay, I’ll be back soon,” Steve told her. “I’m coming, Clint, keep your knickers on.” 

 

“Knickers? What the fuck?” Clint shouted. “Hurry it up.” But he left the door. Steve changed, Peggy lifting the pillow from her head to give him a drowsy smile. 

 

“You picked that one up from me,” she said. He threw her a grin and headed to the door. “Oi, forgetting something.” He turned in surprise to see her waving him over. Steve wasn’t sure what she wanted, but went to her side, Peggy reaching up to pull him down into a kiss. Steve stood there dazed a moment when she released him. 

 

“I could just tell him I’m busy,” he reasoned, but she had already curled up back to sleep. He shook his head with a grin, heading out after Clint. He ran on ahead, wanting the run to be over with as soon as possible so that he could get home,  _ home. It was finally home.  _ It worked out well because at the cafe down the block that marked the end of their route, Steve stood looking at the desserts display unsure of what to get. 

 

“Dude, what gives?” Clint puffed as he finally caught up. The staff were quite used to their antics. 

 

“What’ll you be trying today, Cap?” the young woman serving them asked him as he still stood there. 

 

“No coffee, thanks, can I get two chocolate eclairs to go?” he asked. 

 

“Sure,” she said and bagged them for him. Steve still waited for Clint as he ordered some concoction of syrups and sprinkles and goodness he was glad he wasn’t the guy’s dentist. They walked back to the Avengers Tower together, Steve smiling each time he thought on what would be awaiting them. 

 

“So, you seriously had no idea she was still alive?” Clint asked. 

 

“No,” Steve admitted. 

 

“You gonna marry her?” 

 

“I hope so,” Steve said. 

 

“You gonna ask her soon?” 

 

“I…”  _ This is exactly the kind of thing I would ask Bucky about.  _ Steve fell into silence. 

 

“Cap? You okay, dude?” Clint asked as they entered the building. 

 

“Fine,” Steve said, going to the stairs. 

 

“Liar,” Clint said and sipped his coffee, stepping into the elevator. 

 

* * *

 

Clint was surprised to see Steve not yet there when he came out of the elevator. Instead, Peggy was having a cup of tea with Banner, the two listening to Thor regaling them with tales of Asgard. 

 

“So, the bifrost, how does it work?” Peggy asked. 

 

“It is a gateway, bridging Asgard and the other of the nine realms,” Thor explained, drawing with his finger on the table something Clint couldn’t see. “Heimdall operates it.”

 

“The one who can see everything?” Peggy asked for a clarifying nod from Thor. “How does that work?” 

 

“Incredibly well,” Thor told her. “Except for when it doesn’t.” 

 

“So… when doesn’t it work?” she was even more intrigued now. 

 

“Well, there are places that Heimdall can’t see, dark realms, that manner of locale. And there are some who are shrouded from his vision,” Thor explained and chuckled. “Annoyingly, but also fortunately I suppose, I am not such one.” 

 

“Can he see where zero matter comes from?” Peggy asked. 

 

“What matter?” Thor asked with a frown. 

 

“What’s zero matter?” Banner shared the inquiry.  _ I have said too much _ Peggy panicked and looked about, absently spotting Clint. Her eyebrows knitted together with an almost audible click. 

 

“Where’s Steve?” she asked him. 

 

“He took the stairs,” Clint explained. The door down the corridor opened. “Here he is! Hey man, we were just talking about you. Good things. Mostly good things.” Steve walked in and immediately went directly to Peggy. 

 

“Eclair?” he offered her. 

 

“Thank you, my darling,” she said, accepting one with a smile that was all for him. He sat down in the chair beside her to eat his. “Thor was just telling us about Asgard.” 

 

“I am curious how it remains such a mystery to you all when so many of our stories were recorded by some of your people,” Thor admitted. Steve was also intrigued how Peggy didn’t know much about them. 

 

“Norse mythology was used as part of Hydra and Nazi propaganda,” Peggy told him gently. “Personally… that put me off it for a while.” 

 

“I know of the beasts hydras, I have slain some in battle long ago, but what is this nazi?” Thor asked. Peggy and Steve both fell silent. 

 

“There are lots of documentaries about them,” Bruce suggested. 

 

“Yes, why don’t you watch one of them and we have some work to finish, right, Steve?” Peggy said, eyeing Steve. He wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say, so he just nodded. 

 

“Lead the way, Banner,” Thor decreed. Peggy took Steve’s hand, heading back up the stairs with him to their room. He wasn't surprised she already knew the combination. She let his hand go, picking up the pouch she had removed from her duffel bag that morning and sitting on the bed. For a moment he just stood there, watching her. It all felt so perfectly natural… She looked up to meet his eye. 

 

“Steve?” Her voice brought him back to his surrounds, going and joining her, kicking off his shoes. She carefully opened the pouch, pulling out…

 

“Photographs,” he murmured as she started spreading them into groups. There were photos of them and the Howlers from the war, and then two further groupings of people he didn't recognise, and one of the howlers and some strangers, growing old. The time he had missed. That he and Bucky had missed. For a moment he wanted to ask everything, to know everything about what had happened, who their wives and children were, if Falsworth, Pinky and Peggy had ever found the perfect cup of tea, if Gabe had gone to teach languages, if they had been happy. If Dugan had cried at his own wedding. If she had missed him at each of their weddings. 

 

He wanted to know, but also dreaded it. There was a giant hole and he didn't want to know what should have been there to fill the void. He wanted to have been there himself, dammit! He wanted to be in those photographs with her, at their own wedding together, with their own children, with their life as it should have been! 

 

Peggy quietly put the two other piles away, leaving only the memories he was there to share. 

 

“I'm sorry,” she told him softly. She didn't know, but she could see it. She could see his pain. “We have our chance now,” she reminded him. 

 

“Still hurts,” he murmured. Peggy put the pictures aside on the desk, taking him into her arms and laying down on the bed together. 

 

Together. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked gently.  _ I can talk to Peggy.  _

 

“Something Clint said earlier, when we were walking back from the cafe…” Steve started and fell silent. Did he want to tell Peggy that he was already thinking of asking her to marry him? He let out a sigh instead. “He was asking me questions about… something… and I thought how it’s the kind of thing I would always talk to Bucky about.” She linked their hands together between them. 

 

“I can put the photos away. We can put them up when we’re ready,” she assured him. 

 

* * *

 

The next week passed smoothly. Thor had been mortified and insisted upon going through Europe to see the damage done under propaganda twisted cruelly from a mangled idea of Asgardian culture. He desperately wanted to help the people who had been hurt. Clint had wanted to try his luck at versing Peggy. He was good but she was Peggy. He was on the floor in less than a minute. Somehow the footage disappeared from Nat’s phone before she could send it to anyone else. 

 

Steve continued to buy small gifts for Peggy and she responded in kind. They took a trip to the shops to pick out frames for the photos they were going to display. Then he returned one day from his run with Clint to find a good sketching set waiting for him. 

 

“I could go get your old one out of the archives if you like,” she offered. 

 

“When you say get it out, you mean steal it, don't you,” Steve said. 

 

“It's your property, if anything I am returning it to the rightful owner,” she pointed out. He looked thoughtful for a moment. 

 

“Maybe…” he started. She looked at him expectantly but he was smiling vaguely, lost in thought. 

 

“Darling?” she called him from his thoughts. 

 

“Maybe that's a good idea, when we have our own place,” he elaborated, ducking his head as he blushed. “I don't know, do people still do that nowadays?” 

 

“Since when did we care what people do?” she jibed playfully. “We've certainly waited long enough for this. I absolutely have.” She flopped on the bed with a sigh, Steve smiling and taking the chair at the desk. He started sketching her. Peggy heard the pencil on the paper, cracking open an eye. “Wouldn't it work better if I posed?” she asked but didn't move from her position. He glanced up, offering her a smile. 

 

“You're perfect,” he said, resuming to sketch. 

 

“I could get changed and we could have a proper life drawing session,” she said idly, her eyes shut. She waited a second and the pencil dropped, Steve scrambling to pick it up. She smiled, knowing he would be blushing. “Do you know why your sketchbook is in storage and not on display at the Smithsonian exhibit?” she asked him and he had the sense that she knew very well. 

 

He stretched his memory back to that sketchbook… some pages splashed with tea, coffee, beer or bourbon… drawings of the places they went, the people they saw, many drawings of Bucky and Peggy…  _ oh god.  _

 

The pencil dropped. He didn’t move to pick it up. 

 

“Mhmm,” Peggy voiced knowingly. 

 

“You… you… you saw the drawings?” he asked with a nervous shake to his voice. 

 

“They needed someone to go through your belongings,” Peggy informed him, a tinge of sadness still with the memory after all that time. “And finding that I am glad it was me. Going through them. Not to say your drawings aren’t lovely, they are. I just hope that those… imaginative sketches… were not shown to anyone else.” She opened her eye to see him shift from pale as a sheet to red as a tomato in a matter of seconds. “Steve?” He cleared his throat, now knowing she expected an answer. 

 

“No, no, I didn’t show them to anyone,” he hurried assured her, not meeting her eye. In fact he couldn’t look at her at all just then. “Sorry… I didn’t think you’d ever see them… I didn’t think anyone would ever see them… I…” 

 

“Stop fretting, Steve,” Peggy told him with a smile. He was so sweet when he was flustered. “I won’t bite your head off for it.” 

 

“Sorry,” he still said all the same. It fell silent and he didn’t resume drawing.  _ Perhaps I teased him a little too much _ , Peggy wondered. 

 

“Some of them were quite flattering,” she admitted. “You know you could have asked me- you  _ can _ ask me. As long as the product remains between the two of us.” Steve nodded awkwardly, still not looking at her. “Are you going to look me in the eye or do I have to come over there, because I am quite comfortable and would rather not have to get up just yet.” He audibly gulped, turning to meet her gaze. He still had such youthfulness about him, she had to remember she had nearly seventy years more experience on him. Experience of… many things. “You know, while I am still on my holiday, we should go for that dance.” 

 

His eyes lit up, his entire face changing into a hopeful smile. It lasted long enough for her to mirror it with her own before a shadow crossed his face. 

 

“How long is your holiday going to be?” he asked quietly. She wanted to lie. She wanted to say forever. She wanted it to be forever. But she couldn’t do that to him. Peggy let out a sigh, sitting up and shuffling across to lay her feet on the ground, facing him. 

 

“Another week? I am going to have to start getting back into it,” Peggy informed him. “It’s work that no one else is doing but absolutely needs to be done.” 

 

“I have no doubt of that,” Steve said. She smiled. 

 

“Between this long term mission, I sometimes also take freelance work as it were from SHIELD, and other… parties,” she said cryptically. “But only work I believe in. And most of them don’t actually know who I am.” 

 

“What's your big mission?” Steve asked. 

 

Peggy bit her lip. She looked about the room. If they weren't safe here, where would they be? 

 

“You can't breathe a word of this to the others,” she told him in a whisper. “Especially Anthony and Fury.” His eyebrows knitted together. “It's why I left SHIELD. I believe Howard and Maria were murdered. I am trying to find their killer.” His eyes widened. She put a finger to her lips. He nodded slowly. If Howard had been murdered, could that place Tony at risk? 

 

“Is there anything that I can do?” Steve asked. She smiled sadly. 

 

“Stay alive,” she told him simply. If only it were so simple. She let out a brief sigh and drew on her smile again. “So. Our dance?”

 

“Would… would you like to go this Saturday?” Steve suggested. 

 

“What day is it today?” she asked. 

 

“Tuesday, I think.” Peggy nodded in thought.

 

“Why wait?” she asked. 

 

* * *

 

Two hours later, Steve found himself doing up his tie in the mirror, catching his smile in the reflection. He had instructions to meet her in the common area at seven o'clock, which was still a while off. Where Peggy had gone he had no idea. 

 

_ Oh no I should have bought her flowers! _

 

He froze, fear washing over his features. 

 

_ No, this has to be perfect! Okay okay, what do I do, what do I do?! Dammit, Bucky would know how to fix this!   _

 

He started pacing around the room, clenching and unclenching his hands to avoid running them through his hair he had styled and been tweaking for twenty minutes. 

 

_ Okay, don't freak out. I got this. Maybe she won't expect flowers on the first date… but I want to give her flowers, oh shit.  _

 

He sat on the end of the bed suddenly, making the springs creak with surprise. 

 

_ Maybe we can go past a florist and I can get her some on the way? Are any still open at this time of night? Bucky would know. Fuck, I need Bucky. _

 

There was a knocking on the door. A familiar loud knocking that had interrupted Peggy’s afternoon naps too frequently in the last week. 

 

_ What the hell does he want now?  _

 

Steve went to the door and opened it to see Clint standing there in a delivery costume with a bouquet in his hand. 

 

“Pepper told Tony who told Nat who told me you're going on a date with Aunt Peggy and I lost a bet with Nat and get to be chaperone to make sure, as she put it, ‘that neither fossil keels over from too much fun tonight’,” Clint drawled unenthusiastically like he was reciting a speech. He shoved the flowers at Steve. “Pepper told me to tell you to give her these and there are vases in the utility room. And Tony told me if you fuck this up he will kill you. Now take the damned flowers so I can get out of this stupid costume.” Steve mutely accepted them, Clint stomping off down the corridor to the sound of Nat giggling. 

 

“Thanks… We don't need a chaperone,” Steve called to him as an afterthought. 

 

“Yes you do,” Nat called back from around the corner. 

 

* * *

 

Steve entered the common room at five minutes to, surprised to find Pepper, Nat and Bruce there with Peggy. 

 

_ Oh my goodness… _

 

“Peggy,” he breathed. She turned to him, her own face glazing over momentarily. She was head to toe  _ stunning _ . A luscious red dress accentuated her figure in what would have been a scandalous fashion in the 40s, gold heels peeking out matching the small purse in her hand. Her hair had soft waves cascading over her shoulders covered by a light sheer capelet. 

 

“You're early,” she said softly, eyes gliding smoothly down his figure of smartly dressed black suit and tie, back up to meet his sweet blue eyes.  _ My favourite colour.  _ “We scrub up quite well, don't you think?” He just kept smiling at her. “Steve?” His name called him back, striding forward and offering her the flowers. 

 

“These… these are for you… you look… Peggy…” he said in a fluster, blush rising. 

 

“Tell her she looks beautiful, idiot,” Nat told him from the sofa. 

 

Peggy held his eye, hands wrapping around his holding the flowers. 

 

“You look beautiful, Peggy,” he breathed ever so softly. 

 

“Thank you, my darling,” she said, her eyes twinkling, crinkled at the corners with her smile. “Shall we put these in water before we go?” She glanced down to the flowers between them and his gaze followed. 

 

“Yes, yes, I'll get a vase,” he said, handing them to her. He was about to hurry out of the room when he felt her hand slip into the bend of his elbow.  She seemed to float along the floor beside him, following him out. 

 

“Don't forget, chauffeur is waiting downstairs,” Nat called after them and chuckled. “Clint is going to have fun.” 

 

* * *

 

They took the flowers and vase back to the room they shared, arranging them on the desk. Peggy pulled out a rose that matched her dress, going to Steve and threading it through a button hole of his jacket lapel. He was gazing at her with such an intensity, their faces so close… 

 

“You can kiss my cheek it you like, but I would rather keep my lipstick nice until we arrive,” she told him softly. Steve slowly nodded, then leant down to lightly brush his lips against her cheek. His hand found its way to her waist, separated only by the soft fabric. 

 

“Peggy, you look so incredible,” he sighed. 

 

“Thank you, my darling,” she said sincerely. “You look very handsome.” Her hand reached up to cup his cheek. “We don't want to make our ride wait.” 

 

Steve drew back, his features momentarily frowning as he remembered the words Clint had said. As if reading his mind, Peggy let out a laugh. 

 

“No, he's waiting in the garage, I thought a cab might be better,” she explained, a glint of mischief lighting up her eyes. 

 

“So you know their plan?” he asked her. 

 

“Not in detail, but it won't take long for them to realise that we gave him the slip later, so why not get a headstart on it,” she suggested playfully. He offered her his arm. 

 

“To dinner, Agent Carter?” he asked. 

 

“Captain Rogers, it would be my pleasure.” 

 

* * *

 

Clint sat drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of the Mercedes Tony had suggested for the night. Steve and Peggy were meant to be at the restaurant already! What was the hold up? He dialed up Nat to ask. 

 

“What?” she said flatly. He could hear popcorn being made in the background. 

 

“Are you watching a movie without me?” he asked indignantly. 

 

“Why have you rang? There can't be anything to report yet!” she demanded. 

 

“Of course there isn't anything to report, where are they?” he demanded. “We're supposed to have reached the restaurant by now!” 

 

“Barton, where are you?” Nat said. 

 

“Waiting in the garage for the last half hour!” he snapped. 

 

“They left twenty minutes ago,” Nat told him. “Hey, JARVIS, show us security feed from the elevator twenty minutes ago.” Clint waited on the other end of the line, knee bouncing with anticipation. “That little… ugh!” Nat exclaimed. “They took a taxi.” 

 

“Where?” Clint asked indignantly. “And why? My driving is not that bad!” 

 

“Your car playlist is,” Tony called out. “Hurry it up with the popcorn, Romanov, or I'll let Thor eat your Magnum.” 

 

“Go check the restaurant, and do your job,” Nat told him and hung up. 

 

Clint started the car, the opening bars of Born to be Wild blaring on the speakers. 

 

“There's nothing wrong with my playlist,” he said quietly, driving out onto the street. 

 

* * *

 

Peggy slipped the driver a piece of paper with the address of their destination. 

 

“A surprise,” she told Steve as they settled in the back seat together. “Don't worry, you'll like it.” He tried to guess where they were going as they wound through the streets of New York, only realising a few blocks away their destination-

 

“The Stork Club?” he asked her. She smiled, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. 

 

“Seniors night, they have much better music,” she explained. He helped her out of the taxi, Peggy slipping her hand into place by his elbow. They paused a moment, looking up at the building before them. A ramp split the stairs. Lights flashed and cars drove by and it was all loud and big and Steve took a breath as Peggy squeezed his arm gently. They went inside. 

 

* * *

 

Clint went to the restaurant he was supposed to be taking them to, doing three sweeps of the floor before he came to the conclusion  _ they weren't there.  _

 

He returned to the car and called up Nat. So much for chaperoning. His evening was turning out more complicated than he'd expected. 

 

It was supposed to be mind-numbingly easy. Drive them to the restaurant. Keep watch from afar. Drive them to the club for them to go dancing. Try not to fall asleep. Drive them home and report to Nat whether they kissed, proposed, got into any fights, or anything else. 

 

Tracking two geriatrics through New York on a Tuesday night was not what he had wanted to do. But it was his job.


	4. Date & "Dance"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally get their dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: This chapter does get a bit more smutty. I have no experience writing smut so let me know if it is okay. Also there is mentioning of scars Peggy has.

The front of house had been expecting them. 

 

“Miss Carter, Mr Rogers, your table is ready,” he said, leading them through a bar area. There were other couples about, all considerably older in appearance than the two of them, but most younger in years. He gave them both menus. “A drink to start, perhaps?” He looked to Peggy.

 

“I'll have a glass of the sparkling rosé, thank you,” she said and looked to Steve. 

 

“An excellent choice, ma’am, and for the gentleman?” the waiter asked.

 

“The same for me, please,” Steve said.  He couldn't take his eyes from Peggy to read the wine list.  _ Am I blushing? I'm probably blushing. Oh no did I remember deodorant?!  _ Peggy reached a hand across the table to hold his. He wondered if she could tell the back of his neck was sweating. 

 

“Deep breath, darling, it's just me,” she told him softly, squeezing his hand. 

 

Just Peggy. It would never be  _ just  _ Peggy. Peggy’s poise. Peggy’s elegance. Peggy’s intelligence. Peggy’s humour. Peggy’s beauty.  Peggy’s  _ everything.  _

 

He found himself getting caught up in her features, noticing the colour of her nail polish as she tucked away a loose curl behind her ear, eyes tracing the movement down to the earrings she wore, the way the shadow from her hair fell against her neck,  across to the crimson smile, up to her eyes, watching him watching her. 

 

Steve wished he had brought his sketchbook. 

 

The waiter returned with their drinks. Steve hadn't even looked at the menu yet, so he told them to call him over when they were ready to order. They raised their glasses in a toast to each other, each sipping. It was sweeter than the wine Steve remembered Dernier trying to get them all drunk on. Lighter, too. 

 

“I managed to convince Thor to give me some weak Asgardian… one of their lighter alcohols. For later, if you actually want to feel a buzz,” she said. 

 

“Just being here with you is intoxicating enough,” Steve replied after a moment. Peggy raised an eyebrow slightly with surprise. “Perhaps later, though,” he agreed. 

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Nat, can you track the taxi they took?” Clint asked. 

 

“No, I'm busy.” Nat hung up. He could hear the movie still playing in the background.  _ They hadn't even bothered to pause it?  _

 

“Wow, guys, such a great team,” he muttered. “‘Don't worry, Clint, we've got your back. Let's all have fun without Clint. Let's make him run after a pair of dinosaurs on a date.’ Haha, real funny.” 

 

_ Okay now where the fuck are they?  _

 

* * *

 

They chatted over dinner, adorably awkward at times but whenever he felt his nerves resurfacing, Steve would take a breath, look at her face and memorise all her features. 

 

_ This isn't about me making a good impression. This is about  _ us  _ having a good time.  _

 

_ Together.  _

 

He smiled and felt her foot brush against his leg under the table. He froze, eyes shooting up to see Peggy’s grin. She had eaten carefully, her lipstick was still safely intact. 

 

The music shifted. 

 

“I think they're playing our song,” she hinted.  _ Something slow.  _ He stood and offered her his hand. 

 

“Shall I have we dance?” he stumbled over his words, ‘shall we’ and ‘may I have this dance’ fighting over his tongue. He ducked his head and blushed. A hand slipped into his. 

 

“Mr Rogers, I thought you'd never ask,” Peggy told him, gliding up from her chair. She left her bag and capelet there, accompanying him to the floor where a few couples swayed together. Stopping in a free space, Steve stilled. 

 

_ Oh no I still don't know how…  _

 

“Here, I’ll show you,” Peggy told him softly, moving her hands into position. He followed suit, one hand at her waist and the other holding her hand. Peggy smiled. “Okay, now watch my feet. I'll go slowly for you. Try to mirror the steps.” He couldn't help noticing they were standing further apart than the other couples around them. But then he realised why Peggy would give him the space. If she stood any closer he would be staring down the front of her dress. 

 

“Do you need a minute? Your palm has gone sweaty,” she whispered after the song finished. His head shot up to meet her eyes. 

 

“Yeah… yes,” he stammered. 

 

“Through that way, I'll wait at the table,” Peggy told him with a nod towards the restrooms, ghosting her lips against his cheek before slipping past him back to the table. He wiped his hands anxiously at his sides, going directly to the mens. Peggy sipped her water as she waited, catching her breath and watching the others around the room. She caught the eye of a couple.  _ They're younger than me, though,  _ Peggy noted, averting her gaze down into her glass. 

 

“My dear, you and your partner make such a beautiful couple,” the woman spoke. “It's so nice to see young people with manners nowadays.” 

 

“Thank you,” Peggy said, as amiable as she could. How she had the idea of their having manners from only seeing them have dinner and dance, Peggy had no notion. 

 

“You ought to have brought him earlier, there's a class in the afternoons on Tuesdays,” the man suggested. “There are a few other young things there as well. Very good teacher, used to be on Broadway you know.” Peggy already knew about the class and the teacher very well. 

 

“Yes, we unfortunately couldn't make it this week, but some other time we might.”

 

“Have the two of you been together long? I only ask since he was so jittery, he looked like he was about to pop the question!” the woman asked with a laugh that the three of them shared. 

 

“We've known each other a while, but only got together recently, I doubt that will be on the cards just yet,” Peggy said just as Steve was returning. “Darling!”

 

“We'll let you two young things get back to it,” the woman said, tugging her man away. Steve took his seat, taking a sip of water. 

 

“Who were they?” he asked. 

 

“They didn't say, polite enough though,” she told him quietly so as not to risk being overheard. Silence settled between them, watching a faster dance start on the floor.

 

“I'm sorry my dancing isn't up to parr,” Steve said. 

 

“We danced an entire song and you didn't once step on my toes,” Peggy pointed out. “The best dance I've had since… goodness…” She sat back and actually thought about it. He watched her face cloud with wistful memory. “Since 1951,” she finally declared. 

 

“What happened in 1951?” Steve asked, genuinely curious. 

 

“I danced with my brother at his wedding reception,” Peggy said with a smile. “I can show you some photographs of it later at home if you like. If they're there… if not, I can probably ask Sharon for copies of her grandmother's.” They sat a little longer. 

 

“Would you like to… dance again?” Steve offered. 

 

“Yes, I very much would,” Peggy assured him. 

 

They danced another few songs, still a little apart so that he could watch his feet. He really didn't want to step on her toes on their first date. Neither of them were particularly breathless, but Peggy did want some time to see him looking at her face instead of her feet. They ate dessert and sat a while. The people around them started to head home. 

 

“We should think of heading home too, perhaps,” Peggy said, her foot rubbing against his leg under the table. Steve cleared his throat and swallowed down hard. They paid their bill, Clint staggering in just as Steve went to get Peggy’s chair for them to go. “Right on time,” she remarked to Clint. He shot a glare at Steve who gave a shrug. 

 

Peggy continued to flirt subtly with Steve over the ride home. Clint didn't bother asking them how it had gone. 

 

They went to the floor above the common area to come out in the corridor their room was on instead of having to face the others. Steve shut the door behind them and turned to face Peggy. She was sat already on the corner of the bed, taking off her shoes. 

 

“Did you have a good time?” he asked awkwardly, taking off his jacket.

 

“Yes, but the night isn't over yet,” she said, putting aside her shoes and opening the purse to pull out a flask. “Need some liquid courage, Captain Rogers?” she asked. He chuckled, averting his eyes and sitting at the desk chair to untie his own shoes. The flowers stood on the table beside him, proudly poised in the vase.

 

“What gives you that idea?” he asked.

 

“You’ve been nervous but positively brimming with excitement all evening, and only I told you not to kiss me until we arrived. That was several hours ago and my lipstick is still fully intact,” she pointed out. “So, either you didn't want to kiss me and I have had the wrong idea about us for the last week, or you've been too nervous to try.” He sat silently. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to know how every inch of her skin felt under his lips. “So which is it?” Peggy asked. 

 

“Nervous,” Steve admitted, shyly. “This… all seems too good to be true…” 

 

“And?” Peggy asked. He smiled awkwardly. 

 

“And every other date I've ever had was a double date with Bucky giving me advice every couple of minutes. You're right, I really don't know anything about… women, about dating, about anything. I know I wanted tonight to be special and I know I want to spend the rest of our lives together I just… don't know the steps.” There were quiet footsteps of Peggy approaching him, opening the desk drawer in his periphery and pulling out two glasses.  _ I hadn't put those there… Peggy must have been prepared.  _ She poured a finger worth in each, set down the flask then held them both up. 

 

“Steve,” she said. It took him a moment before realising she wanted him to look at her. He did. She was utterly ravishing leaning casually against the desk, flowers behind her arm, a glass in each hand. “Tonight has been special,” she told him sincerely. “I'd very much like for us to spend our lives together too. Sometimes it isn't about knowing the next steps, it's trusting each other and trusting ourselves.” She held out a glass for him. “Even if we leave tonight here and get ready for bed and sleep together as we have each night for the last week, I have had a wonderful time. And, if we take a leap of faith to see where else the night takes us, I'm sure that will be splendid as well.” 

 

He accepted a glass, staring at the amber liquid a moment.  _ The same colour as when the sun hits her eyes…  _

 

“To a leap of faith?” he said, hesitant but curious. When he saw her smile he knew it had been the right thing to say.

 

“A leap of faith,” she agreed, glasses clinking together. He took a careful sip whereas Peggy knocked back her entire drink. He let out a wheeze as it burned down his throat. Peggy coughed and shook her head. “Wow, that hits the spot,” she rasped under her breath and let out a laugh. 

 

“How on Earth did you do that?” Steve asked in a combination of admiration and mortified. “Wait, how can you stomach that at all… oh my goodness, Peggy, how are you still… still…” He gestured vaguely at her. “Peggy?” 

 

“Short story, I got a small dose of trial serum from Dr Erskine. Off the records. Tell no one. And had an encounter with zero matter in 1947. Again, tell no one.” She raised her finger to her lips, glancing to his, her gaze lingering on them for just a second before flicking up to look him intensely in the eye. “Long story,” she continued after a moment. “My brother taught me how to drink during holidays when we were teenagers. We didn't like the beer and wine our parents drank so spirits were the only thing left in the house. It was a very nasty learning curve. Probably don't tell anyone about that either,” she added with a slight grimace. “Heavens, this is strong! More?” He carefully took another sip. 

 

“I think this'll be enough for me,” he said. Peggy nodded, putting the flask into the drawer she had pulled the cups from. “I never thought of asking Thor for alcohol.” 

 

“I figured since he has an appetite like yours, metabolism might be the same,” she explained. She waved vaguely at him. 

 

“What?” he asked, uncrossing the arm he had over his chest. It seemed that was what she had wanted him to do as she sat down sideways in his lap, curling up against him. He took a final sip of his drink and set the glass with hers on the desk, a buzz starting to fill his head. It mixed with the strong smell of Peggy’s perfume. He knelt his head lower to smell just beneath her ear, nuzzling into her neck as he did. “You smell great,” he murmured, arms hugging around her waist. 

 

“Thank you, my darling,” she said, one arm around his shoulders, her other hand reaching up to run a finger against his ear, electric chills following her touch. 

 

“About that leap of faith…” he spoke into her skin and placed a kiss against her neck. 

 

“Mmm,” she hummed. “I trust you. I found the rubbers in the cupboard days ago.” 

 

_ What?  _

 

Steve sat up with a jerk, Peggy blinking at him, missing the feeling of his lips against her skin. 

 

“You didn't know?” she asked with a frown. 

 

“I didn't buy any… not that I'm against the idea… that is if you'd like to, we could… I’d be happy to...  that is if you are,” he said incoherently. 

 

“Bloody Tony,” she swore. Steve couldn't help chuckling. “What?” she asked as he shook his head, starting to laugh. 

 

“That's the first time I've heard you call him Tony,” Steve explained. 

 

“I guess tonight is a night of firsts,” Peggy said with a grin. “Anything to discuss before we… dance?” 

 

“Never danced before,” Steve said. “Only just found my right partner.” He bounced his leg beneath her, Peggy wrapping her arm around his shoulders again to keep steady with a laugh. “Heard Bucky and the other lads enough to know some moves though. And you?” 

 

“How soundproof is this room?” she asked. 

 

“I… I don't know,” Steve admitted. Peggy shrugged. 

 

“I guess they'll tell us in the morning,” she said. “Now, Captain, my lipstick is much too neat.” He smiled, ducking his head forward to meet her lips. Gentle and sweet and long. He drew back, wanting to ask her thoughts but there was no need, Peggy following him the moment the pressure of his mouth left hers, passion and the urgency of waiting so very long bursting through. His arms hugged her close as her hands began to explore, loosening his tie and top button, then the next, lips leaving his to explore down his neck. 

 

“Oh my god, Peggy,” Steve breathed. Her lips were back on his, a messy line of red outlining the journey between. One of his hands wandered down to her hip, fingers edging lower. 

 

“Bed?” she asked, pulling away at last, breathless. He nodded his agreement, easily lifting her and carrying her over, setting her down carefully. He got ready to climb over her, but she sat up, grabbing her purse and pulling it aside, then reaching a hand through the slit of her dress.

 

“Peggy?” he voiced in confusion. 

 

“Just don't want any unpleasant surprises,” she explained, pulling out a small gun and a knife. Then she reached into her cleavage to retrieve another knife. These she all put to the side on the nightstand. Steve looked at her in awe. “Your turn,” she told him. He stood there. “Fair enough.” As if to compensate he started unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off to reveal his singlet underneath. Peggy got up on her knees, wrapping her arms around his exposed shoulders, pulling him down as they kissed. She turned them so she was on top, straddling his hips, his hands wandering over her back and fingers tangling in her hair as hers teased at the edge of where the singlet tucked into his pants. 

 

“You're sure?” Steve asked.

 

“I've been sure since 1942” she replied. As she slowly worked up his singlet, fingers ghosting over the skin beneath, his hands found their way to her arse, feeling her moan in his mouth. For a moment he worried that was wrong, lifting them away back to her hips. “What are you doing, that felt good,” she told him. 

 

“Oh, okay,” he said, running his hands down again. 

 

“Mmm,” she voiced deeply, pulling his singlet up to expose more of his chest. She gave it a tug and he let go of her, arching up off the bed to take the singlet off and let it fall wherever they would find it in the morning. Again she voiced her pleasure, running her hands unhindered over his chest. “Exquisite,” she murmured, earning a deep chuckle from Steve that was quickly silenced as she licked from his navel up to his sternum, kissing along one of his collar bones. 

 

“Fuck,” he breathed. Her lips traced back up his neck towards his mouth, arms either side of his head, fingers running through his hair, her body laying flush against his. She brushed her lips against his temptingly, his head following up a little as she withdrew. She reached towards her back, a small frown knitting her features. She sat up on his thighs, knees against his hips, reaching still at her back. “Peg?” 

 

“Where is the ruddy zipper!” she said. 

 

“Need a hand?” Steve offered. She turned in his lap, pulling her hair out of the way to expose her neck and upper back. He sat up, running his hands over her smooth skin. She shivered under his touch. His hands wandered down to stroke her back, finding the hidden zipper. He tugged it down, Peggy letting out a sigh as it was released. He pushed the straps over her shoulders, revealing a pair of scars. His fingers ghosted over them. 

 

“What happened there?” he asked, moving his hands to massage her shoulders. She melted under his touch. 

 

“I went with the Howlers to wipe out the last Hydra bases at the end of the war. Some bastard got me in the shoulder,” she explained, leaning back against his chest, humming a little as skin contacted skin. He continued to work at her shoulders and the back of her neck. She could feel his breath against her ear. 

 

_ So beautiful…  _

 

Peggy sighed as he pressed a kiss to the spot just beneath her ear. He opened his eyes, glancing down to see the front of the dress gaping around her chest. She could feel his response at her back. 

 

She shifted forward to let the straps fall further, exposing more of her back in the process until his fingers ghosted around the scar tissue on her back, as though not daring to touch it in fear of hurting her further. 

 

“There's a matching one on the front too,” she said. 

 

“Peggy?” he whispered. 

 

“Skewered falling onto a rebar,” Peggy said passively. “1947.” 

 

_ If I had been there she might not have had to go through it. She could have been spared all that pain. I could have…  _

 

He gently reached around her to hug her, skin against skin. 

 

“I'm sorry, Peggy,” he whispered into her hair. “I should have been there.” 

 

“Don't you dare blame yourself,” she ordered him sternly. “We are here, now, and I believe that we were in the middle of something.” She spread her fingers over his hands against her stomach. But the mood had gone. She let out a sigh. “Do they really look that bad?” she asked, all sternness gone, replaced by insecurity and vulnerability. He remained silent, thinking about his answer. A moment too long for Peggy’s comfort. “Steve?” she asked, a quiver to her voice. 

 

“They are part of you,” Steve told her. “And I love all of you. Every… single… inch…” He punctuated his last words with kisses going across her shoulders. “It's just something I need to get used to… that I missed so much.” 

 

“JARVIS, dim the lights,” Peggy ordered. She freed her arms from the shoulder straps, turning to meet Steve’s lips with her own over her shoulder. She hugged one of his hands against her abdomen, guiding the other up. Neither was sure who moaned. 

 

* * *

 

Steve was the first to wake, grey dawn light coming through the gaps in the curtains. Peggy lay half on top of him. There was a red smear over her lips stretching to the sides of her face, a pattern of marks in the same colour on his chest, some smeared on the bedding. It took him a moment to realise it was her lipstick. 

 

_ From last night… we…  _

 

Peggy opened an eye and cringed. 

 

“What time is it?” she mumbled, turning her face into the pillow. 

 

“Dawn,” Steve answered softly. She let out a sound of disgust. 

 

“It's too early,” she whined. 

 

“Want a coffee?” Steve asked. 

 

“Yes,” she said. 

 

“Marry me?” he asked before he realised. 

 

“Make me coffee every morning?” she asked. 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Then yes.”

 

“So you will marry me?” 

 

“Yes, of course I'll marry you, but you're learning how to dance first so you can actually look at my face during the reception,” she chastised him. “Now, coffee.” 

 

Steve pulled on some joggers and a tshirt, kissing Peggy’s shoulder in passing. She didn't react, presumably gone back to sleep. He headed out to the common area, startling Clint and Tony awake where they were sleeping on the sofa. Nat was on the other sofa, already glaring at him. 

 

“Look who the cat dragged in!” Tony loudly exclaimed as Clint put his hearing aids on. 

 

“What did I miss?” he asked, looking around in confusion. 

 

“Did you have fun, Rogers?” Tony asked. Steve glanced over at them, coffee pot on and toast in the toaster. 

 

“Is that a giant hickey on your neck?” Clint asked with no tact. 

 

“It's Peggy’s lipstick,” Nat told him. 

 

“Huh? Well, how'd it go?” he demanded. Steve was still not sure he wasn't dreaming. “Thanks for ditching me, by the way. I had a great time running around the city trying to find you two,” he said sarcastically. 

 

“You two had better not do any morning sex,” Nat cautioned sourly, striding out of the room. Steve frowned in confusion. He looked to the guys for explanation. 

 

“You were kinda loud,” Tony said. Steve’s eyes widened. “Yeah, Nat slept out here on the sofa and I think Banner made a nest in his lab.” 

 

“Don't ask me, I slept through the whole thing. Tony is very comfy to sleep on,” Clint said. 

 

“Yeah, I don't know which of us Pepper is going to kill more,” Tony told him. 

 

Steve swallowed the lump in his throat, making lots of toast, piling the plate high. He carried it back to the bedroom with the two mugs of coffee, hearing Peggy in the bathroom. He sat in the bed, starting to eat. Hearing him, she opened the door, revealing she had a robe on. His robe. It was very possibly all that she had on.

 

“Yes.” She went straight for her coffee, taking a big sip. “Thank you,” she told him, planting a kiss on his lips. “Best boyfriend in the world.” She ruffled his hair, sipping her coffee again before setting the mug on the nightstand closest and returning to the bathroom. 

 

“Boyfriend?” he said. “You agreed to marry me five minutes ago!”

 

“We're engaged when one gives the other a ring,” she told him, facing the mirror. “Until then, boyfriend. Partner. Lover.” She glanced at him over her shoulder with a wink. He nearly choked on his coffee. 

 

“Actually… a-about that…” he started. Peggy froze.  _ No. Don't you dare run now.  _ Steve scratched at the back of his neck. He had no idea how to break it to her. She didn't trust herself to speak. “I… um… you see…”  _ Okay, enough.  _

 

“Say it,” she said, a little too harshly. Steve cringed. 

 

“Okay,” he said meekly. “This room is not soundproof.” Peggy turned. 

 

_ Oh my god he's serious.  _

 

They stared at each other for several long moments. 

 

She started laughing. Peggy laughed and laughed and bent over holding her sides. Steve watched in mild bewilderment. She eventually calmed, going and sitting on the edge of the bed as she wiped away tears from the corners of her eyes. 

 

“Peggy?” he voiced meekly. “You don’t seem very worried.” 

 

“Well, they can’t fire us, or court martial for fraternization,” she pointed out. “All they can do is think and talk. And people have done plenty of that for the last seventy years. It hasn’t killed me yet. Certainly made me want to kill people, though.” She slid over to kiss his cheek. “Does it worry you, what they think?” 

 

“I… I don’t know?” he admitted. “I do care what you think... And I care what they think since they’re my colleagues… but this isn’t to do with them. Except for the fact none of them slept in their own rooms.” Peggy tilted her head in confusion so he explained finding the others sleeping on the sofas, and Bruce in his lab. 

 

“We’ll just have to keep that in mind when we look for a place. Soundproof house,” Peggy said calmly. 

 

“You mean bedroom,” Steve said. 

 

“No, house. In case we feel like experimenting.” She patted his cheek and took a piece of toast, crawling back on the bed to sit with him. 

 

“What should we do?” Steve asked. 

 

“About?” Peggy prompted. 

 

“Us being so loud the others couldn’t sleep,” he said. She contemplated it eating her toast, taking a sip of coffee, then another. “I’d like to keep… you know… with you…” 

 

“You can say the word sex, Steve,” Peggy told him with a smirk. 

 

“It just feels weird knowing that they can hear us…” Steve said. 

 

“Well, we could try being quieter, but I doubt that’ll do any good,” Peggy said. “We could ask Anthony if we can move rooms to a different floor, or see if soundproofing can be added to this room. We could have sex during the day while having extremely loud music playing so that they can’t hear us instead of in the middle of the night. Or just give them ear plugs. If we change anything at all, I mean, they literally sent Clint to spy on our date, serves them right for being nosey.” She took a definitive sip of coffee. 

 

“We’ll work this out,” Steve said. Peggy leant her head against his shoulder. “Oh, and they saw your lipstick marks on my neck.” 

 

“Well, simple remedy for that,” Peggy told him. “Fancy a shower together?” 


	5. The Loneliest Night of the Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dream can't last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: discussion of fertility issues.

Steve’s schedule was thrown off for the next few days with their new ‘workouts’. Nat had ended up joining Bruce in the nest, and Clint didn't care how much noise they made once he took his hearing aids off.

 

Saturday came and he woke up with Peggy in his arms. He didn't even say anything.

 

“It's Saturday, sleep in,” she mumbled.

 

“Pancakes?” he whispered by her ear, nuzzling against it gently.

 

“Sleep,” Peggy said, groggily reaching out an arm over him. The room fell into silence for a long while, Steve watching how the light changed her features. After half an hour she cracked open an eye, meeting his. She smiled and then let out a long yawn. “Mmmm, good morning, my darling,” she murmured and climbed on top of him.

 

“Good morning,” he said, fingers running through her hair and down her back. “Do you want pancakes?” he offered again.

 

“That involves at least one of us getting up,” she pouted. “I want to snuggle.” Steve was more than happy to wait, memorising every dip in her back with his fingers.

 

_She has a point. We might not get quite so much of this in the next few years._

 

“Someone is happy this morning,” she remarked.

 

“I'm happy every morning I wake up at your side,” Steve pointed out.

 

“Mmm, but this is more than your usual glow,” she probed.

 

“I was thinking about how you're right, spending our Saturday mornings in bed together, since in a few years I'm guessing we will be a lot busier,” he said. Peggy let out a snort.

 

“Okay, that's definitely something we have to discuss _after_ coffee,” Peggy said, wanting to end that topic of conversation there.

 

“Whatever you say, Peg,” he assured her, kissing her head.

 

* * *

 

Breakfast turned more into a brunch, dragging on as others arrived. Thor returned in the middle of it all, insisting upon giving Steve and Peggy his deepest apologies for the pain they and their friends and families had been through from the war.

 

“Thor, we know that those people had nothing to do with you, or anyone else from Asgard,” Steve assured him.

 

“Still… if I had kept better watch, perhaps I could have intervened. My father never would have permitted it, but I would,” he told him. “You are truly great warriors, the both of you.”

 

Then came the others telling Thor of Peggy and Steve’s first date that had been seventy years in the waiting. They tried to weedle information of what actually happened on the date out of the two but both were tight lipped.

 

“It was our date, it's between us,” Peggy said regally.

 

“I bet there wasn't much between you both afterwards,” Clint said in a low voice. He got covered in orange juice for his troubles.

 

* * *

 

The sun was out and the forecast was hopeful, so Peggy and Steve headed out into the city, Steve bringing his sketchbook. They made their way to central park and found an available plot of grass to sit. Peggy made herself comfortable, soaking up the sun. Steve drew their surrounds, Peggy, how some buildings looked looming up behind the trees, Peggy, a family having a picnic nearby, and Peggy again.

 

“Another thing to remember for our home,” Peggy said lazily.

 

“Hmm?” he voiced, glancing over to her.

 

“An art studio,” she said. “You used to paint, didn't you?”

 

“Yes, I did portraits and design work. I haven't painted in a while, but I would very much like to again,” Steve said. She smiled, rolling onto her side to better watch him. He had the sense she wasn't looking at him though.

 

“Wait right here, I'll be back in a minute, my darling,” she told him, kissing his cheek and rising. She walked behind him and he turned expecting to see where she had gone but she had already vanished. A soft frown bent his brow as he resumed sketching. It wasn't long before two people were walking out from the trees. “I sent the others on their way. Steve, this is my great niece, Sharon Carter.”

 

“Hi,” Steve said, getting to his feet and offering his hand with a smile.

 

“Hi, Captain Rogers,” Sharon said, ducking her head. “It’s an honour to meet you, sir. I'm sorry, Aunt Peggy, I…”

 

“We will discuss it later,” Peggy told her firmly.

 

“Didn't you live next door to me at the SHIELD apartment?” Steve asked, his frown returning.

 

“Yes, that was me,” Sharon admitted. Peggy cast a look around. _Sent the others on their way…_

 

“Did Fury send you?” Steve asked, his voice threateningly deep.

 

“I was told to keep an eye on you at the apartment, but not here,” Sharon admitted.

 

“You were _spying_ on me?!” he exclaimed. Peggy had a hand on his arm in an instant. _We are in central park, this is not the place for a scene!_

 

“She's a spy, Steve, as am I,” Peggy reminded him.

 

“I wanted to talk to you, honestly I did,” Sharon pleaded. “I wanted to tell you as well, Aunt Peggy, but-” Peggy lifted a hand to silence her.

 

“Save it for our talk later,” she instructed her. Sharon meekly nodded.

 

“I'm sorry,” she offered.

 

“So why are you here?” Steve asked.

 

“To say sorry… I didn't know that Fury hadn't told you both, I thought he would have called you first thing once he was found, Aunt Peggy,” Sharon explained.

 

“What have I always told you?” Peggy asked.

 

“Never trust Fury to tell anyone anything,” Sharon said. Peggy nodded. “Nice job with his car, though. The video has been going around the office.”

 

“None of them know, do they?” Peggy asked.

 

“They all just think it was Tony Stark,” Sharon assured her.

 

“Good,” Peggy said. “Now, we should probably get moving before they send in another wave of watchers.”

 

“It is for your safety,” Sharon argued.

 

“I'm old, not senile,” Peggy retorted. “And if our safety was what Nick Fury had in mind, I would hear it from him. SHIELD’s safety and his safety, now that's something he'd never say.” Peggy linked arms with Steve, the three of them heading out of the park to a cafe. Sharon and Peggy shared a pot of tea for two as Steve had a black coffee and sketched them both.

 

“Are you still mad?” Sharon asked him when they had a moment alone without Peggy.

 

“You should have at least told me you're related to Peggy,” he said in a low voice and ducked his head with a grin. “I cannot believe we flirted, I am so sorry.” Sharon ducked her head with her own blush.

 

“Sorry,” she apologised. “Aunt Peggy always said how incredible you were. Still didn't prepare me for seeing you for myself. I'm glad you two have each other again. This is the happiest I've ever seen her. Both of you. You deserve this.”

 

* * *

 

As they were getting ready for bed that evening, a realisation crossed Steve’s mind. Ever since that morning when he had alluded to them having children someday… Peggy hadn't picked up the topic again. _Does she not want to have kids?_ He wondered, brow furrowed deeply in thought. _I always have, but if she doesn't, I shan't force it._

 

“What's got you looking so worried?” Peggy asked, switching off the bathroom light and going to join him in the bed.

 

“I'm not worried, just thinking,” Steve said, opening his arms to hold her.

 

“About something that worries you,” Peggy stated, kissing him gently. He gave a surprised sound of delight, tasting the chapstick on her lips.

 

“Do you want to have kids? Not now, I mean, but someday, a few years maybe,” Steve said vaguely. Peggy closed her eyes and let out a sigh, resting her head on his shoulder. “Forget I asked,” he said gently, kissing the crown of her head.

 

“No, we should discuss this,” she said. _But… how do I say it…_

 

“If you don't want to have kids, that's okay,” Steve said in the silence, even though she could hear his heart wasn't fully behind those words.

 

“That isn't it, I …” Peggy sighed again. “I haven't actually thought about it for a long while. Being so caught up with my work and having a career, I ended up not finding anyone else I actually _wanted_ to have a family with. I finally came to realise that… it might not be for me. And I have been at peace with that for a long time, being single and not having children. In fact, if I'd had children, my job could very likely have painted targets on their backs. And I'm rambling, aren't I.” She looked up to meet his eyes. “This is a big change from what my life has been like for twenty years. Maybe, given time, we might. But… Steve… I…” She swallowed down and tore her eyes away.

 

“It's okay, we have all the time in the world, I can wait, and even if we don't, I still want us to be together,” Steve reassured her.

 

“I don't know if I can,” Peggy said softly.

 

“If you don't want to be a mother-”

 

“No, Steve,” she started and pushed herself up to be sitting. “I don't know if I can actually have a baby, if I can get pregnant. For one thing, I might look like I'm in my twenties, but I am ninety. Ninety year old women don't have babies, Steve, it isn't possible. There might be a slim chance, I still have my cycle but it is once a year, if that, but… I don't want you to get your hopes up, in case I can't.” She watched his features change as he listened, processing it all. It had been his dream, and hers too once upon a time, and now she was telling him that it might not happen. It hurt to say and it hurt seeing him upset. But she couldn't let him keep dreaming without knowing the reality, that felt all the more cruel. Peggy slipped her fingers into his. “I'm sorry, Steve. I really am. I know it means a lot to you…”

 

“We'll work this out,” he said softly. “We’ll work this out,” he repeated louder and with more confidence and squeezed her hand back. She let out a nervous breath. “I love you, Peggy.”

 

“I love you too,” she said, smiling with a tear of relief running down her cheek. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her all over her face, wiping away the tears with gentle love and laughter.

 

“Besides,” he whispered by her ear. “I'm not ready to share you just yet.” He kissed just beneath it.

 

“And there I was thinking I had the possessive streak,” she gasped with mock shock, moving as if to demonstrate this by straddling him. Steve took the chance to roll them both so he was now over her, nuzzling and peppering kisses along her neck and the exposed skin around her collar bones as she laughed softly with delight. It was a magical sound!

 

* * *

 

The weather had turned to drenching downpours. Steve watched out the window as he sipped the last of his coffee. The grey skies matched the grey city but for once he felt better than blue. Peggy came over, wrapping her arms around his waist. He lifted an arm over to wrap around her shoulders.

 

“Good weather for ducks,” she remarked.

 

“Glad we don't have to go out in it,” he said, turning to smile down at her.

 

“I do, I'm meeting an old friend for lunch,” Peggy explained. “Still, just like home. Except it's much easier to get proper biscuits nowadays! That's a wondrous improvement!”

 

“Which friend?” Steve asked.

 

“Angie, she's quite a fan of yours actually,” she admitted. “I have been writing to her on and off over the years. I wanted to get back in touch while I still can.”

 

“Mind if I come?” Steve offered.

 

“I always wished to introduce the two of you,” Peggy told him, looking up to meet his smile.

 

* * *

 

They left early but that still didn't give them enough time to make it punctually with the traffic. They were just getting into the apartment complex, peeling off raincoats and shaking off their umbrella when a door opened along the corridor.

 

“It's about time!” Angie exclaimed. “Who's your friend?” Her eyes were alight with excitement, shining clear and bright as she watched the two approaching.

 

“Angie, this is Steve Rogers,” Peggy introduced him. Steve held out a hand that Angie shook.

 

“You kidding me? _The_ Steve Rogers?!”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and she turned to Peggy with a look of utter astonishment.

 

“You brought Captain America to my house and didn't think to warn me in advance?” She stood aside to let them in to her flat.

 

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” Peggy said.

 

“Surprise?! Honey, you're lucky I've got a strong ticker!” Angie led them through a corridor lined with framed photographs of stage productions, signed programs, magazine articles and more memorabilia from her life. The lounge room there were a few posters on the walls and framed photographs of people Steve presumed were Angie’s friends and family. There were a lot of them!

 

_It had better be strong, I'll need a maid of honour when we get married!_ Peggy kept the thought to herself with a smile.

 

* * *

 

Monday morning came far too soon. At first Steve wondered if Peggy would be staying, maybe starting her work the next day. But she didn't wear her red lipstick. She left midway through their work out, heading out before he returned to their room. So that was it then.

 

It was strange, being alone again. He checked his itinerary, going through the steps of work. Peggy still wasn't back by the time he returned from his run with Clint. He watched the sunset alone… Before dinner he went to the closet, checking her things were indeed there. Her toothbrush still stood by his at the sink.

 

They were little things but they meant a lot.

 

Steve headed out to join the others for dinner.

 

“And where is Lady Carter upon this good evening?” Thor asked over a giant slab of lasagna.

 

“She's working,” Steve said. Tony turned to him.

 

“Yeah? What's she working on?” he inquired curiously.

 

“I don't know,” Steve said.

 

“And you are a bad liar,” Tony replied. “Really, what is it?” Steve cringed.

 

“I’ll get the thumbscrews,” Clint said, making to stand.

 

“You’ll do no such thing,” Peggy announced, coming out of the elevator. Steve stood, Peggy going to kiss his cheek. “I’m terribly sorry, I lost track of the time. Everything alright?” She met his eye. Still her lips didn’t bear that glorious red. She was in her nondescript leather jacket, jeans and boots, just like most other people who were the age that Steve and Peggy looked.

 

“Perfect,” Steve said, getting her chair for her to sit. Peggy didn’t believe him, but didn’t say anything on the matter, setting it away for later.

 

“So, what are you working on in New York, Aunt Peggy?” Tony asked as she helped herself to some lasagna.

 

“Research, mainly,” Peggy said. “I might not like Nick Fury but at least he runs a good filing system.” Clint choked on his bite, Nat frowning a little but otherwise not responding.

 

“You broke into SHIELD?” Tony gawped.

 

“I founded SHIELD, I don’t need to break in,” Peggy corrected him and took a bite of her meal.

 

“Was your research successful?” Thor inquired. Peggy nodded, swallowing before answering.

 

“Hopefully I’ll find what I need,” Peggy said.

 

“And then you’ll be gone again,” Tony said it like he was familiar with her coming and going without a trace. Steve’s brow furrowed. Peggy caught it in a glance.

 

“But you know I always come back,” she reminded Tony. “It might take time but I do.” Tony just shrugged, going back to his lasagna. It was an old discussion.

 

“How much time?” Steve asked softly. This discussion was new.

 

“As long as it takes,” Peggy said.

 

* * *

 

Those words still haunted Steve’s mind as he went back to their room. Peggy sat at the desk, working away.

 

“Do you have to?” he asked feebly.

 

“Do I have to what?” she replied when he didn’t elaborate.

 

“Go.”

 

“Yes,” Peggy said. Steve couldn’t hide his slump of disappointment. “I need to go punch something, all these papers have my head in a spin after the day I’ve had.” Steve didn’t move. “I still have my research to do,” she pointed out. He pouted without meeting her eyes. “So the next week or more I am here you are going to spend sulking because I will have to be going away?”

 

“I’m not sulking,” Steve argued obstinately.

 

“There’s a dance class tomorrow afternoon that Angie teaches,” Peggy informed him. “We can go if you like.” That perked up his spirits, Steve glancing to her with a smile. “Goodness knows we need the practice,” she chuckled, reaching over to stroke his head and kiss his lips. “I love you, my darling. Never forget that.”

 

He sat in their room, reaching for one of the books someone had given him at some point for him to read to catch up on literature of the last seventy years. His eyes glossed over the pages. A few floors away, Peggy beat the crap out of a punching bag, ending up sending it flying to smack into and bounce off of the wall.

 

* * *

 

She wore the lipstick to the dance class. Steve was wondering if there was a pattern, no lipstick when working, lipstick when not working. Angie was ecstatic to see them again, and didn’t shy away from shifting his hands and forcing them closer together. She had also loaned Peggy a pair of steel capped toe dancing shoes, which was a lucky thing with how crushed Peggy’s toes would have been if she hadn’t been wearing them. But by the end of the lesson, he had a feeling that with a little more practice, it could indeed be possible.

 

She didn’t tell him what she was searching for, only that it was important. He believed her. He trusted her.

 

Then he came home from a run to find Peggy and Nat talking in the stairwell in whispered Russian.

 

“ _The records say you had a run in with Winter_ ,” Peggy said.

 

“ _Are you hunting him down?_ ” Nat asked.

 

“ _And his masters_.”

 

“ _If you get between him and his target, he will not hesitate._ ”

 

“ _I know._ ”

 

“ _If anyone can stop him, it would be the Ghost._ ”

 

“ _If there is anything you can tell me about him, I would appreciate your help._ ”

 

They fell silent when they heard his footsteps. _Is Peggy hiding something from me?_

 

* * *

 

The strange dance around each other continued until the night Peggy announced it would be a week and she would be leaving to go on her mission.

 

“Where are you going?” Steve asked. _When will you be back? Could I join you? Couldn’t we stay here, stay happy, stay together?_

 

“Europe,” she said vaguely.

 

“Must you go?”

 

“I have exhausted almost every other line of inquiry,” Peggy sighed. “I hope I’m wrong.” She propped herself up on her side, gazing at him in their bed.

 

“Why? What are you thinking?” Steve asked. She tucked herself against him.

 

“Terrible things,” she admitted. “When I have answers, I promise you’ll be the first I tell.”

 


	6. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't get Steve drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Steve's breakdown gets intense. Feel free to skip this chapter if that is upsetting or triggering for you.

Steve stood at the window, staring out at the sunrise. His life fell back into its old rhythm. Some of her clothes were still in the closet and the photos were still in the frames, the ones they hadn’t yet put up waiting in the drawer. She had been there. She had been real. But now…

 

Tony knocked on the door. Steve opened it.

 

“Sorry, did I miss the call for dinner?” Steve asked him.

 

“Nah, I just… wanted to come say hi,” Tony said, scuffing his toe on the floor as he stood in the doorway. “Mind if I come in?” Steve stood aside, Tony entering with a smile and going to the desk. Steve gritted his teeth and lowered his head as Tony reached right for the photograph of Peggy and Steve. “Miss her already?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” Steve admitted, going and sitting on the bed as Tony took the chair. “How long is she usually gone for?” Tony shrugged, setting the photo back on the desk, angling it so they could both see her where they sat, slumping forward to rest his chin on his arms and gaze at the other pictures. Steve wondered if Tony had actually known any of them.

 

“She came around a lot after my parents died,” Tony said. “Tried to knock some sense back into me. I’m still here, so something must have worked.” He smirked. “But… then she started on this big secret mission, went away for months at a time. Then years. Then I didn’t see her for about a decade. Finally she came back and you know what she said?” He looked to Steve. “She said I had more balls and more brains than Howard, and my mother would be proud. Then she swore that if I died before her she would burn down the gates of hell to give me a hiding.” Tony grinned, eyes going back to the old and faded images. Steve nodded, even though he didn’t understand. Was Tony trying to distract him with stories of Peggy? Or encourage him to share his own? “But of every time, this is the first she ever left any trace that she was here.” He nodded towards the photos. “She’s the last we have left of them, isn’t she.”

 

_We._

 

Steve frowned.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

 

“Well, she’s my last family. And the last person who remembers you from before you woke up from an ice cap cat nap,” Tony said.

 

“Then why doesn’t she stay here?” Steve insisted. “What could she possibly be doing that she can’t take us?” Tony shrugged.

 

“I don’t know,” Tony told him. “But if she’s setting down roots again at last, maybe she might finally finish that mission and come home.” 

 

* * *

 

Tony kept coming and chatting with Steve about Peggy every week. Tales of an Aunt and an Agent that sometimes wore on into the night. The time Peggy did one hundred and seven one armed push ups on a dare from Dugan and a bet from Howard that scored her three bottles of bourbon. The time Peggy dragged Howard out of the room at Christmas after he’d gotten drunk and was shouting at Tony and Howard had returned sobered up the next morning with a black eye and an apology for Tony. That had been Tony’s favourite Christmas, spent mainly with his mother and Peggy, his childhood memory separating it from the scene with his father. The time Peggy drove him through London as the air raid sirens went off, racing to get to the war office bunkers. The time Peggy had told Tony what a great idea JARVIS was, even agreeing that the name was very fitting, smiling and shedding a tear.

 

It seemed to help Tony, having someone to share those memories with, someone who understood the force of nature Peggy Carter could be. But for Steve it only brought up more memories.

 

Peggy convincing him in the pub to continue the fight after Bucky had died under his watch. Peggy convincing him in the camp to go after Bucky and the rest of the 107th and rescue them. Peggy convincing him that he could use his powers for good. Peggy being the first person he had ever saved with his strength, forcing her out of the way of the car.

 

She had been the first life he had saved.

 

All the papers talked about that little kid. For years he had considered Bucky and the 107th.

 

But she was the first.

 

Peggy Carter could have died that day, hit by a car on the streets of Brooklyn.

 

Perhaps it would have made it easier in the present. He wouldn’t have so much of her to miss now she was gone.

 

Tony brought some rum, Steve found the flask of Asgardian brew Peggy had left in the drawer.

 

They drank.

 

And drank.

 

And drank.

 

“Why did she go, Tony?” Steve wept on, pacing about the room, hitting the walls. “Why?”

 

“It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all!” Tony declared poetically.

 

“Fuck that!” Steve cried out. “No! It isn’t! It hurts! It isn’t better! Why does there have to be loss? Why can’t there just be the love?! Bucky deserved to! Peggy deserved to! _I_ -”

 

The door was kicked open and Thor strode in, Nat and Pepper at his back.

 

“What is going on here?” he demanded, grabbing the flask, sniffing it and upending it. Empty. “How much have you drank, Rogers?”

 

“We need to sober him up, he’s gonna do something,” Nat told Thor.

 

“I will leave Stark to you, then?” he asked.

 

“Nah, I’m fine,” Tony said, getting to his feet and swaying, raising the glass. Pepper took it out of his hand.

 

“We’ve got this under control,” Pepper told him. Thor gave them a solemn nod. Steve tried to fight him off but with the effects of the alcohol, Thor easily carried him over his shoulder, Steve beating his fists into his back.

 

“You are not of your wits, Rogers,” Thor told him. He went out, grabbing Mjölnir and flying Steve away. He took them to the park, dark and empty. He thrust Steve into the cold water for a moment and pulled him out. “Better?” he asked.

 

“No,” Steve spluttered. “Where is she? Let me go- Where’s Peggy?!”

 

“Lady Carter is away on a mission but she will return,” Thor assured him. “I can send message home and ask Heimdall how she fares. But you must calm yourself, Steve. You are frightening the others.”

 

“I don’t care! I don’t care if they’re frightened!” Steve shouted. Thor thrust him into the water again. This time when he pulled him out, Steve instead hauled Thor in with him. “I should have died, I didn’t want any of this! Why couldn’t I just have died?” Thor grabbed his shirt and hauled him out of the water, both sitting on the ground, dripping on the muddy banks.

 

“You are a great warrior, but Valhalla was not ready for you yet,” Thor told him sternly. “Why are you not glad to have a second chance at life?”

 

“This? This isn’t life!” Steve ranted. “This is hell!”

 

“Why?” Thor demanded. “You have seen the atrocities of war, yet you call this,” he waved around them at the greenery and peace. “You call this hell?”

 

“This is all some adventure to you, you can go home to Asgard whenever you want, but my home, my family, my friends, they are all gone! I am alone and there is nothing left for me here. Nothing!”

 

“What of us, your team, the Avengers?” Thor demanded. “What of all the good we do in the world?”

 

“I am tired, Thor! I am tired of running! I am tired of fighting! I’m done!”

 

“And what will you have us tell Lady Carter when she does return? Which we must have faith that she will.”

 

“Faith,” Steve spat. “Faith got my best friend killed.”

 

“No, faith got him saved,” Thor argued, raising a finger. “I have seen the remains of the battlefields. I have seen the monuments and museum halls, talking of your victory saving the noble Bucky Barnes from a Hydra. It was Lady Carter’s faith in you, and your friend’s faith in you, that saved his life.” Thor jabbed Steve’s chest so hard that he fell back to the ground. “She fought on without you, believing you dead, for many years. And now, you know she is alive, yet wish to give up? Where is your faith in her? And your faith in yourself? Do you believe she isn’t capable to complete her mission?”

 

 _No, Peggy can do anything._ Steve shook his head.

 

“Then why, what has you hurt so badly, that even knowing she is alive and will return to you, you cannot stand?” Thor demanded. There was a brief blast of jets, light flashing on the scene as Tony arrived in the ironman suit.

 

“Because it’s lonely,” he supplied, helmet retracting. “You could fight through waves of soldiers, defeat monsters, but you always had your team. Well, we’re your team now. And we are not leaving you behind.” He offered Steve his hand up. “Now we have got to get you sober or Aunt Peggy is gonna kill me when she finds out about all this.”

 

* * *

 

Steve woke with a hangover for the first time since 1942.

 

“Still with us, then?” Clint asked from across the room. Steve opened an eye and flinched from the light.

 

“What… what…” Steve asked but his mouth was paper dry and his voice a croak.

 

“You were a mess, dude,” Clint told him. “We’ve been taking shifts to keep an eye on you to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid.” He thrust a bottle of water at him. “Get all that down the hatch, Captain.” Steve complied with a grimace.

 

“What did I do?” Steve asked.

 

“You got drunk, man, like actual drunk,” Clint told him.

 

“I don’t remember…”

 

“Wow, black out drunk,” Clint said. “Well, yeah, you started shouting some heavy stuff, banging on the walls, screaming, and Nat and Pepper got Thor to take care of you to get the worst of your edge off. Then he and Tony brought you home, and you were wailing for like, hours. It was... it sure was something.” Steve let out a grunt of acknowledgement and turned his head into the pillow. “So yeah, if you try moping here, we’re just gonna get Thor to throw you in the lake a few times again.”

 

“Go away, Clint,” Steve said, muffled by the pillow.

 

“Okay, I know you said something, but I have no idea what because it was too muffled and I couldn’t read your lips, so I’m gonna assume it is wanting a cup of coffee,” Clint said. “And thanking us for saving your neck.” Steve threw his pillow at him, grabbing the one from Peggy’s side of the bed and covering his head with it. He wanted to suffocate himself in her scent but… it had been so long, it didn’t smell like her anymore.

 

He felt… hollow. Like when he had first come out of the ice. Except after whatever had happened last night, it didn’t hurt it just… it didn’t _anything_.

  
_Where is Peggy?_ Steve thought, silent tears soaking into the sheets beneath his face.


	7. Home is Where You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now we come to an ending of sorts and a beginning of kinds. Thank you for joining me on this journey and I hope you have enjoyed this tale as much as I have.

Peggy headed home with answers to some of her questions and even more questions in need of answers.  _ Home.  _ It was a comforting thought. Steve, Tony, and their friends. She had been awake all night to get there a day earlier than she had anticipated, picking up some chocolates to share with Steve on the way. Dawn was just breaking. It was silent.  _ Steve must be at his workout already.  _ She quietly slipped into their room, putting her duffel bag on the floor, box of chocolates on the desk. Peggy flopped directly onto the bed, not even bothering to change or shower.  _ It smells like him.  _ She buried her face into his pillow, falling asleep. 

 

_ Home. _

 

Steve froze in the doorway as he came in from the gym. 

 

There she lay, on the bed, fast asleep. 

 

“Peggy?” he breathed. Her head rose with a flash, the hand reaching for her gun freezing when she laid eyes on him.  _ She’s back. Peggy is back!  _ Tears started streaming down his face as he walked over to her, climbing onto the bed and enveloping her in his hold, crying into her shoulder. She rubbed his back, smiling. But then he started to sob. Her smile faltered. 

 

“Steve, are you okay?” she whispered. He cried into her shoulder, the door still open. It was Bruce who came along with his cup of tea, closing the door for them. “Did I miss something?” she asked, concern mounting. He couldn’t speak. He had to hold her. He needed her. “Steve, you’re scaring me, what’s happened?” She forced them up to look into his face. “Steve?” 

 

“I couldn’t… Peggy… I can’t alone… not again… I need you,” he wept. Alarm lit up across her features and she held him close. 

 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here, my darling,” she soothed him, rocking them gently. Eventually his sobs lessened and he was left sniffling. 

 

“I couldn’t keep going on my own, Peggy.” His voice shook as he spoke. “Please, don’t go. It was too lonely… I couldn’t…”

“I’m here,” Peggy told him. “This mission is almost over. I might need your help with the final part.” 

 

“Yes, yes, just don’t leave me alone again,” Steve pleaded. 

 

She managed to get them in the shower, washing away Steve’s tears along with the grim she felt coating her skin. She was exhausted, otherwise they might have gone directly to bed together. But there were other matters she had to attend to first. So they dressed and went out to the common room for more coffee and so Peggy could eat. She didn’t wear her red lipstick. 

 

_ She’s still working.  _ Steve noted, keeping tactile contact with her at all times. Holding her hand, sitting right up against her, pressing their legs together, anything. He had to  _ feel  _ she was there, she was real. 

 

“Comfortable?” she loudly spoke, head turned towards the kitchen. Clint was perched on top of the fridge that still had the dent from a few months before. 

 

“He was a mess,” Clint said, pointing at Steve. 

 

“Can you see how soon Nick can get here? I need a word with him in private. Also, where are Nat and Tony?” Peggy asked him.

 

“I'll let Pepper know, Tony is in his lab, and Nat is in the gym,” Clint explained. 

 

“Cheers,” Peggy said, grabbing a full cup of coffee in one hand, Steve’s hand in the other. She went to their room and rummaged in a bag. “Is there a dark room?” Peggy asked, pulling out many film canisters in a bag. 

 

“Um… Tony or Bruce might have something in their labs,” he suggested. 

 

“Good,” Peggy said, leading the way downstairs. “I need these developed so people will believe me. If I hadn't seen this I wouldn't believe me.” She presented the film to Bruce who gladly took charge of developing the photographs in another room, Peggy holding the last canister. She switched the lights to a dim red and passed the it to Steve. “I need to know if you see it too. It's been so long, I could be wrong but...” He opened the can, pulling it out to look at the film negative. He peered closely at the small rectangles of sepia tones. There were shapes and a face… 

 

_ Bucky. _

 

“Is it him, Steve?” she whispered. He could only mutely nod. Peggy took the film back, putting it away in the canister and returning the lights to normal. 

 

“Peggy… how…?” he croaked. 

 

“We're going to get him back, I promise,” she said, taking his hands, resting her head on his shoulder and taking several deep breaths. 

 

“What's going on?” 

 

“I started looking into Howard’s enemies and oh boy he had a hell of a lot of them,” Peggy started in a soft voice. “I thought Hydra were gone. I thought we'd won, but I was wrong. Oh my god I was so wrong.” She shook her head against him. “Zola’s serum, it must've been. With Fenhoff’s hypnosis methods, they must have brainwashed him, programmed him somehow. But we can undo it. We can free him, we must.”

 

“Programmed him to what?” He didn't know if he wanted the answer. 

 

“An assassin,” Peggy explained. “The Winter Soldier, I think he killed Howard and Maria.” 

 

“What?! Bucky would never-” 

 

“I know,” Peggy lifted her head to meet his eyes, alight with anger and confusion. “This was not what I was expecting.” 

 

“You've found him, though,” Steve breathed, realisation dawning upon him. “You found Bucky.”

 

* * *

 

Tony was glad to see Peggy back in his office. 

 

“I have some news,” she said gravely. 

 

“Are you two eloping?” Tony teased. Peggy fixed him with a look that had him still. “What's the news?”

 

“Anthony… your parents were murdered,” Peggy said softly. “I found their assassin.” He paled, face falling in shock. She knew he needed time. He backed away, running his hands over his face and through his hair. 

 

“No… no… it was a car crash,” Tony insisted. “No, that's… that's not possible…” 

 

“Hydra sent the assassin to kill him because they were afraid he was close to recreating Erskine’s serum,” Peggy informed him. 

 

“Did you kill them? The assassin?” Tony asked immediately. 

 

“No, I'm afraid it's more complicated,” Peggy said gently. 

 

“Okay, okay, I'll help, yeah, take me with you and we can kill them together,” Tony told her. 

 

“I'm not going to kill him unless I absolutely must,” Peggy kept going, her voice as even and calm as she could manage. 

 

“Why?! That bastard killed my mom!” Tony shouted. “He deserves to die!” Steve turned away. He couldn't bear to hear anyone say that about his best friend.

 

“Anthony, you have every right to be angry, but Steve and I both know the man from before. We believed him to be dead. Hydra have both the technology and resources to have brainwashed him and programmed his mind to follow their orders.”

 

“That doesn't make it right!” Tony argued. 

 

“No, nothing makes any of it right. But if someone hacked your Ironman suit while you were inside and forced you to kill me, I wouldn't be blaming you. I would be blaming the people who hacked the suit. Steve and I are going to try to save him if we can, or at the very least prevent him from killing anyone else. Now, I understand that might be difficult for you to follow, but I am still giving you the choice to help us.” 

 

“I will kill him.”

 

“No, you won't. But if we can't get Bucky back, I'll kill him,” Steve spoke in a low voice. The room stilled. 

 

“ _ Bucky _ ,” Tony spat. “ _ Bucky Barnes killed my parents?! _ ”

 

“The Winter Soldier killed your parents,” Peggy corrected him. 

 

“Bucky would never have done anything to hurt Howard,” Steve said with complete certainty. “He thought that he was brilliant. His last night before he shipped out he and I took a pair of girls to the Stark Expo. He would  _ never  _ hurt Howard.” 

 

“He killed him!” Tony yelled. “He killed my mom!” 

 

“Anthony-”

 

“No, I don't want to hear anymore of your excuses for him! Leave me alone!” 

 

“Steve, could you give us a minute?” Peggy asked. He quietly stepped out. “The last thing Maria would have wanted is for you to become a murderer,” Peggy told Tony in a low voice. “I am not going to let that happen.”

 

“I don't need your permission!” 

 

“Bucky is not the enemy here. Hydra is,” Peggy told him. “Hydra killed your parents. And if we are going to bring them down, we all need to be working together. We cannot afford a broken team right now. If you are not up to the task when we leave, you will be staying here.” 

 

“What if he kills you too?” Tony suddenly demanded. “What am I supposed to do then, Aunt Peggy? You're the last family I've got. I'm not gonna let him take you too.” She let out a sigh and pulled him into her arms. 

 

“He won't,” Peggy said softly. “I promise he won't. We're going to avenge your parents, I swear to you we will. But we will not achieve that by bringing down a single assassin. We have to bring down Hydra.” 

 

“I'm coming with you,” Tony said hoarsely, holding her tightly. “I won't let him take you.” 

 

* * *

 

Late that night, Fury met with them at the Stark conference room. 

 

Peggy laid out the photographs. 

 

“Can you explain these?” she asked him. He looked over the photos. 

 

“There's nothing that needs explaining here,” he said coolly. 

 

“Take another look,” Peggy ordered, pulling out an old voice recording device. She played a cassette of different voices, pointing to each photo in turn when there was a different speaker. They spoke of various innocuous topics but then would whisper… 

 

Fury’s eye grew wide. Peggy stopped the playback. 

 

“You have a hydra infestation on your hands, Nicholas,” Peggy said, looming over him across the desk. 

 

“I need all your information,” he said in a low tone. 

 

“You need a pest controller,” Peggy retorted. “This happened under your watch. What are you going to do about it?” She stood tall and crossed her arms, staring him down. 

 

“How did you get all of this?” he asked instead. 

 

“What matters is you need to stop them,” Peggy said calmly. “How much time do you need?” 

 

“Two weeks,” Fury said. Peggy shook her head. 

 

“To long, you need to have them all in a matter of days, hours preferably,” Peggy told him. 

 

“We can't all walk through walls to get where we want to go,” he countered. “Where will you be?”

 

“Recovering an operative lost on my watch,” she said. “We will send word to you once it is complete. Then and only then do you move.”

 

“Who's your operative?” Fury asked. 

 

“Someone who can stop the Winter Soldier.”

 

“You could do that,” Fury pointed out. 

 

“Not like this guy can,” Peggy said with a wry smile. “I'm taking a small team, Stark and Rogers. It is your job to make sure that the world doesn't end while we're gone. Think you can manage that?” Fury stood and offered her his hand. “Excellent. Let's bring down the Hydra.” 

 

* * *

 

Peggy showed the way to the base, Tony flying the Quinjet. They had a mannequin double as good as they could make it from the photographs Peggy had taken. She sat in the back with Steve, holding his hand. 

 

“It won't be your call,” Peggy said quietly. Steve looked up to her. “If we kill him, it won't be your call to make. I can't ask it of you.”

 

“Because you don't think I am strong enough to make it,” he sighed. 

 

“No,” she told him and squeezed his hand. “Because I had to make that call once. And I never want you to know that pain. I'm leading this mission, Captain.” 

 

“We're here,” Tony announced. Peggy let him go, striding into action. 

 

“You both know the plan?” They gave her nods of ascent. “Let's bring him home.” 

 

* * *

 

Five hours later, they were headed home, Steve staring through the small window of the Stark cryo tube at the frosted face of Bucky Barnes. They hadn't been seen. If all went according to plan, no one would ever know they had been there. 

 

Peggy waited until they were safely back in Avengers Tower before she sent the word to Fury. Steve joined Nat and Clint in helping to secure the New York SHIELD base as Fury handled Washington. He had to  _ do  _ something besides just stare at Bucky’s face behind that glass. He was angry and wanted those responsible to pay for what they did. 

 

She sat with Tony and Bruce in the lab. 

 

“Okay, we have him, now what?” Tony asked her. 

 

“We need to find out what they did to him and undo it,” Peggy said. 

 

“I don't know any psychology,” Bruce said. Peggy paced to the head of the cryo tube. 

 

“Anthony, what can you get me on a Dr Fenhoff?” Peggy asked. “He might be dead, but it wouldn't surprise me if these methods came from his work. And a room that can hold a super soldier, if that’s available. Dr Banner, work out how we thaw him out.” 

 

Peggy guarded Bucky, keeping track of the SHIELD vs Hydra battle. Steve stumbled in three days later with Nat and Clint. 

 

“What the hell was that all about?” Clint demanded. 

 

* * *

 

Taking down Hydra was never going to be completed by one battle. Like weeding a garden, you always have to keep going over it, checking everywhere, wrenching them from the ground and trying to nourish the goodness of life. 

 

Peggy took a break, giving Steve a chance to be alone with Bucky, or whatever was left of him. Thermos of tea in hand, she made her way through the city, invisible in the crowds. None of them knew the battle that had been fought within their own streets. 

 

It was better that way. 

 

A hooded figure waited for her on Brooklyn Bridge. Peggy had no qualms with standing by his side, looking out over the river as she sipped her tea. 

 

“How many casualties?” she asked. 

 

“Across the country, twenty of ours,” he reported. “A hundred and three of theirs. Although there are several of both sides still critical.” Peggy nodded. “Many killed themselves rather than be captured.” 

 

“How many got away?” She turned to him. 

 

“Twenty three,” he reported. “We're readying teams to hunt them down. Can I count you in?” 

 

“Once I have Barnes secure,” she said. “I'll consider it.”

 

“How about on the Avengers?” Fury suggested. Peggy smiled. “Stark and Rogers butt heads, but they both listen to you. A united team would be far better than the infighting saving Barnes is sure to bring.” 

 

“I'll consider it,” she repeated. “Next time you won't take so long to ask for my help, now, will you, Nick.”

 

“That won't be a problem if you answer your phone.”

 

“I'll make sure to get a new number.” 

 

* * *

 

Steve stood in the lab staring through the small window at Bucky Barnes’ face. Peggy had insisted on the cryo tube to take out the risk of the Winter Soldier killing them all as they moved him. He looked like he had frozen sleeping. There was a roughness and pain about him that Steve… 

 

“Hell, Bucky, what did they do to you?” Steve breathed. Hell was exactly what they'd done. “I'm with you to the end of the line, pal.” Tentative fingers reached out to brush against the window. Footsteps sounded along the corridor, Peggy’s confident stride. “We're with you.”  _ And we're together. The three of us. Together at last.  _

 

Peggy came into the room, going to Steve’s side. 

 

“We're ready to begin,” she told him gently. He nodded, leaning in close to the window. 

 

“Time to wake up, Bucky,” he whispered. They had no way of knowing if it would work. It could kill him. It could save him. They had to try. 


End file.
